UoO Moaningful Confessions | Punished by the Priest

UoO Moaningful Confessions | Punished by the Priest

It was a beautiful summer’s day, so me and my girlfriend (now ex) decided to take a lovely stroll in the public gardens. We looked like a fairly cute, lovey-dovey couple. Unfortunately, what started as a wholesome and pure date ended in me securing my place eternally in hell.

My girlfriend was a pastor’s daughter, and this one pastor was particularly strict. Once he rang me up on my cellphone to ask me never to spend time alone with his daughter. As a result, all of our raging teenage hormones manifested themselves in public places. More specifically one particular bush in the park.

This bush was a particular favourite of ours. We were serial offenders. Our typical Sunday schedule was; meet in town, handies and oral in the bush, buy drinks from countdown, order a pizza.

A tight schedule is always good. On this fateful day I had just finished finger-banging her in our favourite bush and we decided it was time for countdown. This is where everything went wrong.

For some reason, our horny teenage brains never considered that we should wash our hands after fondling each other’s sex organs. We just wiped the love-goop on few leaves and called it a day. This was usually never an issue. However, today the pastor had finished work early and decided to go grocery shopping at his local Countdown.

He locked eyes with me in the snack aisle, and I knew I was doomed. He extended his hand out towards me, and I only had two options.

Option One: kindly explain to this extremely religious old man that, while I appreciate the gesture, I cannot shake his hand due to the terrible sin still lingering on my fingers.

Option Two: Accept my fate and shake his hand.

I shook that hand and told him that a lovely and absolutely-not-sinful time me and his daughter were having just five minutes before. We walked away, and she waited until he was out of sight then quietly whispered to me “was that the hand?” Yes. Yes it was the hand.

We shared some incredibly nervous laughter, and bought a 99 cent water bottle to wash our hands with. I am no longer allowed into heaven.

This article first appeared in Issue 14, 2019.
Posted 11:07pm Thursday 4th July 2019 by Critic.