Straight Female / 36
I Grew Up To Be A Good Catholic, I'm A Mistress And A Lover Instead
I am one of those Catholic school girls. I went to Catholic school from preK to high school, and then onto a Catholic University in Houston. My family is very Catholic, my father had wanted to be a priest but he got my mother pregnant. They had five girls, one of my sisters is in a convent. I lived with an aunt who works for the Church, she is never married and she introduced me to this Priest who had a Catholic radio show. I went to work there and I was happy.
I met a man in line at a cafeteria and he insisted on talking to me, and since I was alone he followed me and sat with me. He was older and said he had a small business and he liked pure girls, never liked the ones that embraced open sex or anything like that. He was looking for a virgin girl to have his children and if I was interested he could support me. All this in one lunch, with a man I never met.
I didn't last a virgin very long after that, with my legs pushed back by the knees and open he 'asked permission'. I was in no position to refuse, give him permission or he was going to take me without permission. Either way I was loosing my virginity that afternoon. He cleaned me up and helped me dress and used his hand to straightened out my hair before taking me to the radio station for the six pm broadcast.
I did my broadcast on humility and abstention from temptation with my panties sticky from his semen. I was no longer pure, he went on to ensure that he had priority over all sexual acts with me, including anal sex, doggy sex, throat sex. In a few weeks he did everything. I was pregnant already and I went through my pregnancy delivering my child out of wedlock. He called her his little bastard child. I had no choice, he gave me money and kept me as a his mistress and continued to get me pregnant. I had three children in less than three years. For a Catholic girl I was anything but pure and holy. My parents were upset, my sisters refused to talk to him, and I was called many things. What I was was his mistress, and I learned to call myself as that. It is better than saying I was a whore, which I felt I was for long time.
When his wife died unexpectedly, she had a blood clot in her lung, he moved me into his house. I slept in her bed and had sex in her bed. I felt bad about it, but again, that's what he wanted and I did what he wanted. I wasn't in a position to disagree. He never brought up marriage, he was fine with me the way things stood.
When my mother got sick he helped with her bills, when my sister wanted a big wedding he helped her there too. My family had to get along with him, and I became know as his wife, his common law wife. One night, after the kids were in bed, I got him erect, and got over him and lowered myself until I was full and rocked back and forth and asked him if he ever treated his wife like that, expecting sex from her. He said yes, and we talked about the things they used to do. Nothing different than what he did with me. I asked him if he considered me his wife, and he said no, his wife was dead. I was his lover.
I met a Priest, a man from Colombia and he helped me understand that God had put me where I was and in God's eyes I was his wife. Yes, if possible I should get married, but God wasn't going to hold that against me. I could call myself his wife, I was his wife in every way.
I never talked with the Priest about sex. With the Priest that is just understood. How bad I was, the things I did. I had missionary sex, but I also had anal sex, and I lay under him with his penis down my throat. He had made me his, and as a good Catholic girl I lived with my sins, it is God's will. He prepared me for him, and He gave me to him. Who am I to question God? If he had wanted me married to a garbage collector I would have gotten married, that's the Catholic way.
I met a man in line at a cafeteria and he insisted on talking to me, and since I was alone he followed me and sat with me. He was older and said he had a small business and he liked pure girls, never liked the ones that embraced open sex or anything like that. He was looking for a virgin girl to have his children and if I was interested he could support me. All this in one lunch, with a man I never met.
I didn't last a virgin very long after that, with my legs pushed back by the knees and open he 'asked permission'. I was in no position to refuse, give him permission or he was going to take me without permission. Either way I was loosing my virginity that afternoon. He cleaned me up and helped me dress and used his hand to straightened out my hair before taking me to the radio station for the six pm broadcast.
I did my broadcast on humility and abstention from temptation with my panties sticky from his semen. I was no longer pure, he went on to ensure that he had priority over all sexual acts with me, including anal sex, doggy sex, throat sex. In a few weeks he did everything. I was pregnant already and I went through my pregnancy delivering my child out of wedlock. He called her his little bastard child. I had no choice, he gave me money and kept me as a his mistress and continued to get me pregnant. I had three children in less than three years. For a Catholic girl I was anything but pure and holy. My parents were upset, my sisters refused to talk to him, and I was called many things. What I was was his mistress, and I learned to call myself as that. It is better than saying I was a whore, which I felt I was for long time.
When his wife died unexpectedly, she had a blood clot in her lung, he moved me into his house. I slept in her bed and had sex in her bed. I felt bad about it, but again, that's what he wanted and I did what he wanted. I wasn't in a position to disagree. He never brought up marriage, he was fine with me the way things stood.
When my mother got sick he helped with her bills, when my sister wanted a big wedding he helped her there too. My family had to get along with him, and I became know as his wife, his common law wife. One night, after the kids were in bed, I got him erect, and got over him and lowered myself until I was full and rocked back and forth and asked him if he ever treated his wife like that, expecting sex from her. He said yes, and we talked about the things they used to do. Nothing different than what he did with me. I asked him if he considered me his wife, and he said no, his wife was dead. I was his lover.
I met a Priest, a man from Colombia and he helped me understand that God had put me where I was and in God's eyes I was his wife. Yes, if possible I should get married, but God wasn't going to hold that against me. I could call myself his wife, I was his wife in every way.
I never talked with the Priest about sex. With the Priest that is just understood. How bad I was, the things I did. I had missionary sex, but I also had anal sex, and I lay under him with his penis down my throat. He had made me his, and as a good Catholic girl I lived with my sins, it is God's will. He prepared me for him, and He gave me to him. Who am I to question God? If he had wanted me married to a garbage collector I would have gotten married, that's the Catholic way.
