Sin Studies S2 E8 | We're freed to commit all the sins that we've been repressing (Patreon)

Everyone is over the age of 18

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We all agreed that I should leave first. I would have to explain to the priest later why I wasn't present, but it sure as heck beats having to explain why I have a huge wet spot on my khakis. 

“You'll check for…” 

“Yes, dude! Go!” Brandon hops on one foot as he attempts to put his tight pants back. The cross around his neck swings with the struggle. 

I got in my car just as other churchgoers arrived. The adrenaline of not getting caught with my soiled pants was unreal. I thought I might piss myself with how nervous I was. 

I stink of my own jizz. A fragrant reminder of the wrong I just committed in the house of God. I sat in my car, waiting for the parking lot traffic to slow down before I headed out with no suspicion. 

Knock knock. The sound is like a bomb going off in my head.

“Oh, not now,” I whisper to myself, and feign a smile at Jenny. I turn my body slightly so that my crotch is better hidden. She attempts to open the passenger seat, and then knocks on the window again. 

Fuck.

I roll down the window slightly. “Hey, I'm feeling a little sick. Like I might throw up. I'm going to head home before I get everyone else sick.” 

It didn't fool her. Maybe it did for a second, but I saw her nose twitch through the crack. Then, her eyes zoomed onto my crotch. 

“You're disgusting, Terence!” Jenny hisses at me, and runs into the church. 

Fuck. 

I sigh deeply, and roll the window back up. With any luck, Brandon and Clara would have cleaned up well and Jenny wouldn't know better about what we did.

That's all I can hope for anyway. 

I wished I stayed in the shower longer. It was a beautiful moment where I washed the slime off me, and I felt clean again for a short while. With the laundry going too, I felt like the escape plan worked. 

Of course, it wasn't as simple as that. My phone was vibrating as I got out of the shower, and the incessant nature of it buzzing gave me chills to the bones. 

“Something’s going on with Clara and Jenny,” Brandon’s text reads.

“Did you see Jenny before you left? She's really upset.” 

“She told her.” 

There were more texts, but that's the last one I read when the call screen appeared. 

“Hello? What's going on?” I ask Brandon.

“It's fuckery,” he replies in a hushed whisper. When you spend so much time in a place, you can recognize it even through the phone. It sounds like he's in the church’s basement. “Your girlfriend is fucking crazy, dude. I thought I was about to see some hair pulling happen.” 

“What?” I try to make sense of it as I shake the water out of my other ear. “Is everyone okay?” 

“We're fucked, man.” The sound of a woman crying enters in the background. “Babe, stop crying.” 

“He said… excommunication…” Clara sobs in the background. From the sounds of the static, I think Brandon is hugging her. 

“Where's Jenny?” I ask. 

“Off fucking the priest, for all I care,” Brandon says. “Bitch told him everything.” 

“I shouldn't have told her!” Clara says.

“It's fine. It's not your fault.” 

Yes, it is. 

“I’ll come by and I'll talk it out with the priest,” I say, looking around my room for clean clothes. 

“Don't bother, man. It's done. They don't want to see us here. I'll come to you,” Brandon says, and my heart sinks at the finality in his tone.

Everybody knows now. Everybody knows we're sinners.

And now, there's nowhere for me to go or to be. 

So, I laid on my bed, and waited. I wanted to pray, but that didn't feel right either. I just waited for Brandon to come by like he said he would.

He took a while, and when he did arrive, he came with a pack of beer. 

“I had to calm Clara down. She's home now,” Brandon says. “And we needed this.” He hands me the pack. 

“This isn't going to help our case.” I refuse the cans. 

“Man, fuck them,” he says angrily. “Fuck them and their old school ways.” Brandon takes the pack back from me and lets himself in. At the kitchen counter, he opens two cans and slides one towards me. “You really think this is what they're going to care about given what we've done?”

I take the can from him and Brandon raises his eyebrows at me to get me to raise my hand to meet his. 

“How many hours of fucking unpaid labour have we given them?” 

“Countless,” I reply. 

“And all that is worth nothing because we wanted to bust a nut?” Brandon lifts the beer up to his lips. “Fuck. Them.” 

Fuck them. 

The drink heats up my throat as it passes. It's almost a pleasant burning sensation since I've been feeling such numbness from the news. 

“This is what 20 year olds are supposed to do.” Brandon belches. “Normal 20 year olds.” 

“Excommunication. How long does that last?” I ask, slapping my chest to get the air out. 

“Forever, man. That's their whole thing. Burn the witch or whatever.” He cracks open another two cans and passes one to me. We down it and let the heaviness of our new reality settle down on us. 

“They're not going to never let us go back, right?” The insecurities in me bubble up. Brandon walks around the counter and hugs me tightly. “Brandon…”

“They'll probably let Clara join again. Because of her family, you know. Us? I wouldn't count on it.” 

But that’s all I know.

“We got each other. You hear that?” His forehead knocks against mine. The crack in his voice is the only flaw in his bad boy armour. 

“I'm scared,” I admit to him, and my eyes water. 

“We don't have to be scared of their rules anymore,” Brandon whispers. “Fuck them. Say it.” 

“But…” 

“Fuck them,” he repeats. He grabs my head with two hands. “Say it, Terence.”

“Fuck them,” I say, looking into his intense dark eyes. “Fuck them!” 

“FUCK THEM!” 

“FUCK THEM!” We shout in unison. 

Then, our lips crash into each other. I feel every single sinful thing I've thought about Brandon resurface. It breaks through the prayers I’ve said around them, and it emerges out of me from every cell of my body.

I want his skin. 

His hands untuck my shirt and they make quick work of undoing the buttons. 

“Touch me,” Brandon whispers in my mouth. He grabs my hands and places them under his shirt. “I want you to.” 

I'm so jealous of his looks. My hands explore roughly the body that my ex-girlfriend lusted after. He's the perfect balance between toned and beefy. I can see why she liked him.

“We need to fuck. We're supposed to fuck. That’s what higher powers would want.” Brandon pulls down his pants, and then works on mine

“Oh!” His confident grip on my shaft makes me groan. 

“Have you thought about doing this?”

“Yes,” I confess. 

“What about it?” 

“That first night… you…oh fuck…” I look up at my ceiling as his warm mouth engulfs my cock. The temperature of his mouth is hot as hell, and I feel his devilish tongue pulling out my juices. 

“Let it go, Terence. Let the shame go.” 

“Oh…” Images of the church pass in my mind’s eye. The priest. Jenny. The confession booth. “Fuck!” I look down at Brandon’s short hair moving around my cock. 

“No more guilt for being who we are.” Brandon stops and looks up at me with those piercing eyes. He sticks his tongue out and licks from the tip of my shaft down to the bottom.

Then, he goes further.

And further.

“Oh!” I lean forwards on to the kitchen counter as the most taboo part of me is licked ravenously. “Fuck!” 

“I'm going to fuck you.” 

His stubble scratches my crack. His tongue skates around the rim of my ring. 

Let go of the shame. 

Admit your desires. 

Open yourself up to sinful pleasure.

“You want it?” Small kisses planted along my spine until he's talking in my ear. “I'll take your confession now.” 

“I want it,” I admit to myself, Brandon and God at the same time. “Oh fucKKkk!”

“Jesus…” Brandon groans. He rests his chin on my shoulder, and I feel the same stubble scratch my skin. “You're tight. I need to fuck you, Terence. I need to fuck.” 

“Do it.” 

Let go of the shame!

Admit your desires! 

Open yourself to sinful pleasure! 

His haggard breath burns my right ear as he rhythmically pumps into my body. 

“Jerk off. It'll make it better.” 

I grab my dick, and we both moan at the same time. 

“Oh fuck, Terence. It's just you and me now,” he whimpers into my ear. 

“You and me.” I hold his head against mine for comfort as he digs into my insides. “I'm scared.” 

“I'm scared too.” His sweat makes his skin cool compared to mine. “But we have to let go of the fear. Become men.” 

“Brandon!” His dick pumps the control out of me and I feel my body reach a heightened sensation that it hasn't known before. 

“We have to be free,” Brandon whimpers again and then it transforms into a growl. “I'm cumming!”

“Me too!” I moan, letting the sensation wash over me and no longer trying to fight it. 

“AhHh!”

“Ah!

“AhHhh!” I feel his love get injected into me and I freely explode over the side of the counter. He pushes his chin into my shoulder, and this time it's an aggressive prickly feeling rather than the gentle scratch it was before.

And it's so hot. I lean into the feeling as my church friend seeds me deeply.

“Forgive me,” Brandon pants, and leans his head against mine. I press my palms against the cold kitchen counter and accept the conflicting feelings entering my system. The cross around his neck hangs on my shoulder.

There's no going back now