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Beginning to listen to her confession, I realize something. I can see myself in this tormented woman. Then, as I start to hear more about the pain she’s in, I begin envisioning myself actually inside her tight body. Treating her like the other men who came before me. Only I can’t act upon these dark desires.
After she finishes her full confession, she leaves her part of the confessional booth and comes to mine, slowly opening the door. The silence is deafening.
She likes being the center of attention in a slimy industry that preys on weakness. There will be no leaving the adult film industry early for someone like her who secretly relishes in it all.
Bambi’s eyes gleam with hope after speaking her full truth. Hope is dangerous. It makes people feel like something better is possible. That their terrible lives can be fixed or even redeemed. Bambi’s life won’t turn out that way; I just know it.
Bambi looks down at me as she leans against the confessional door frame. Her big brown eyes are seeking my approval.
Slowly, she steps closer to me until I’m within her reach. I stand to stroke her cheek softly. She leans her face into the palm of my hand and closes her eyes. I use the other hand to caress her long chestnut brown hair that splays out against her shoulders.
Bambi purrs from the touch. Desperate for affection from someone honest and good like a man of the cloth should be.
She hums as I continue to stroke her hair before pausing. This act is too intimate. I’m not the man destined to offer her this type of comfort.
Little does she know I am neither honest nor good, but I know that I can’t let this go any further without my demons springing back to life.
I move her hair away from her shoulder, causing a spaghetti strap to accidentally fall down the length of her arm. Immediately, I pull my hands away from her. This has crossed a line, and I can’t let it go any further.
Her breath hitches, and eyes snap open wide. As Bambi stands before me with her strap hanging loosely down her arm, I take a step back to put distance between us.
The tension weighs heavily as we continue to stare at one another. This woman’s despair resonated with me, and now this is where we are. As she straightens herself, I see the conviction in her eyes that she’s going to continue this game.
She slowly pulls the other strap down, causing her dress to fall further on her frame. Then without breaking eye contact, Bambi pulls the dress down, and I am face to face with two plastic tits. Just like I had assumed they would be from watching her films.
Of course, this woman doesn’t have a bra on in a church. She is too far gone to be redeemable. That’s my final judgment against Bambi. She enjoys this too much to ever change for the better. God can make his own judgment one day. This is mine.
Bambi’s lips curl into a grin. Like she knows I see her for who she truly is. A whore who lets men take what they want while she enjoys every minute of it. It has nothing to do with her profession but the burning need that courses through her to be taken advantage of in order to prove that people are exactly as she expects them to be—corrupt.
She already has come to terms with her truth. Bambi enjoys the taboo of what is happening between us far too much. The fact of the matter is she craves the power imbalance in her sexual relations. An addict for attention, she’ll do anything to get that next fix. I thought she was lost, but it turns out this lamb is actually the wolf.
Her nipples harden as my gaze sweeps across her body; they are telling the only story I need to know. One that begs for my hands to massage her tits hard and rough, pinching her nipples and not letting go until the pain subsides and turns into her pleasure. She needs her story arc to continue this façade.
Bambi closes the distance between where we are both standing. My shoulders tense as I wait for her next move. That’s when her hands go to my belt buckle.
She sucks in a breath of air in anticipation of what I will say to this devious act. I don’t move or give any signal of what course she should be taking. My mind is confused with what I’m tempted to do and what I know is right. Bambi undoes my buckle before pushing down my pants, followed by my boxers, letting my cock free.
Bambi gasps at the size as she waits on her knees now. Taking it in, she’s memorizing its girth and length in awe. She shouldn’t be; I’ll never be with her again after this.
The hard truth is I want to push forward. It doesn’t matter who Bambi is, she’s simply going to be the means of my destruction.
“I know I shouldn’t want this as much as I do,” she says.
Bambi takes a deep breath before licking her lips in anticipation. I can see the conviction in her eyes.
“But fuck, I want this, Father,” she moans before continuing, “make me right. Make me good. Make me yours.”
I reach for my cock before freezing in place as I leave the trance I’ve fallen under in Bambi’s presence.
What am I doing?
This is not the person I am now. The person who I’ve worked so hard to become. Going against my natural inclinations to take what I want from this woman.
What kind of man am I willing to turn back into if I go much further with this? With my past haunting my every breath, breaking this vow that reformed me from my tragic past is surely only going to amplify that despair.
As I gaze down into her eyes, I know what I have to do. I slowly step back from the body I’m desperate to use.
Her breath hitches from the complete change of direction before waiting for my decision to put an end to this. One that I’m not even sure I’m capable of making.
