Harry's Confessional

The white man walked into the building, saw the light of the confessional box turned green and decided to approach it, knowing no one would be inside. It was late in the evening, about a quarter past eight. He should have been home by now. Matter of fact, that was where he was enroute to when he'd decided to stop by here and make bare his soul to someone who might listen.

The interior of the confessional box was small and dark with a mesh separating his section from the other; there was a chair inside. The man closed the door behind him and sat down on the chair; above his head, the green light automatically turned red. There was the sound of a man entering the other confessional; the white man couldn't make out much of the black preacher's features through the mesh but could hear him clearly when he spoke.

"What can I do for you, white boy?" asked the preacher gruffly.

The white man swallowed and then cleared his throat before speaking. "Sir, I've come ... I've come to confess."

"I can see that, can't I, white boy," the preacher spoke arrogantly at him, making the white man cringe in his chair. "Or else what would your white boy ass be doing in here. Go on with your talk, boy. Time is money."

The man interlocked his hands together as if in prayer, when actually he was struggling to calm his nerves.

"My name is Harry," he began, "and I'm here to make a confession. It's about my wife. Her name is Jill. She's very pretty. We've been married two years now, no kids yet. Recently something's happened to us that ... well, it's sort of changed our lives."

"The fuck is it, boy? Speak like you've got a tongue."

Harry swallowed again; dots of sweat appeared on his brow. His lips trembled as he spoke. "My wife revealed a secret to me almost a month ago. She told me about her craving for ... for black men. Something she's kept secret from me even before we got married. My wife, Jill, loves sex, and unfortunately I'm not that keen in that department. She told me that she'd been sleeping with some guy. A black man. She'd been sneaking him into the house, and four weeks ago she decided to come clean about it and introduced him to me."

"How did that happen, white boy? Tell me about it."

Harry now dug into his story:

"It was a Saturday noon. I was supposed to head out to meet a friend of mine for a round of golf, except it got to raining in the morning and I called my buddy and told him I wasn't going to make it. Jill had earlier gone out. I was in the den reading a magazine when she returned with her lover. She introduced him to me as Mr. Tibbs. She said that they met at some swap-meat shop, or something like that, and since then, they'd been tight with each other. She then told me about how lousy I was in bed, and how since she'd known me, I'd never been able to satisfy her. It was true. I do a much better job with my tongue, but she's always preferred the real thing. Anyway, she then told me about the times she'd been fucking Tibbs, both at his place and over at our home. She told how one time when I'd called her from work, listening to the way she was breathing on the line, that he'd actually been fucking her at that time. Yet she told me that she was exercising. Some exercise that turned out to be."

The preacher broke his concentration by muttering a laugh. When he was done, he urged Harry to continue.

"She told me about a couple of times when he'd fucked her at his place, and of the couple of times he'd invited one or two of his friends over to fuck her. Jill and I had never done anal sex before, but she said she does now, with Tibbs. It was crazy, and I just sat there staring at her, thinking I was losing my head or something, while her boyfriend Tibbs sat across from us laughing his head at me. Right then I wanted to call the police on him ... but I knew I wasn't going to. You should have seen him—big guy with a solid frame. He got up and came over and pulled Jill into his arms and then he told me to 'watch this, white boy,' and she unzipped his fly and pulled out his black cock and started sucking him. I watched this whole thing happen in front of my eyes; I almost thought I was going insane. I stood there and watched my wife, my sweet, angelic wife, Jill, suck another man's cock right in front of me ... and I did nothing about it. Absolutely nothing, sir."

"What did you do, white boy?"

Here Harry stammered, "Well, I ... I can't ... I don't think I should say this, sir."

"Didn't I tell you not to waste my motherfuckin' time, white boy?" the preacher snapped at him from the other side of the mesh. "Go on, tell me what you did!"

"I got erect!" Harry blurted before he could even stop himself. "I was ... getting hard inside my shorts. I couldn't help it—I don't know why. I unzipped my fly and pulled my cock out and started stroking it while I watched them."

"Did he fuck her right there in front of you, boy?"

"Yes, sir, he did. He took off his clothes, sat back down on the couch and had my wife climb on top of him and ride him. He told me to strip my clothes off, and to my surprise, I did just that, and I watched them fuck. It was crazy ... it was amazing. Her bouncing her ass up and down ... him coming down and fucking her from behind. The way he fucked her was almost like he was raping her, and for a moment I got scared that he was ... hurting her or something."

"What happened afterwards?"

"Well, Tibbs left, and then there was just me and Jill. I was still in shock and didn't know what to say to her. I went upstairs, feeling like I had a fever. She came up to me and played with me even though I was sort of mad at her for all what she'd done. I acted like a petulant child. I tried to get angry at her, but couldn't. She laughed at me, told me how I shouldn't be angry, when after all I'd enjoyed watching her. And she was right, I had enjoyed watching her."

"Long story short, you and the bitch made up, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir, we did. Tibbs has been dropping by the house ever since. I've even joined them sometimes. Tibbs makes me lick her pussy clean of his cum whenever he'd done fucking her; I've even bought a camcorder and recorded them together several times and jerked off watching it later. He never uses condoms, and Jill too loves it bareback. She and I no longer have sex—she's got someone now who's taking care of her. Her and Tibbs spend much time together now, at his place and over at ours. Whenever he's around, I move downstairs and sleep on the couch. I've got a three-week break coming up next month, and we're going to travel to someplace exotic, all three of us. I'm so excited about it."

"That's good to know, white boy. Confession's over, now get outta hear and go be with that slut wife of yours."

Harry got up, thanked the black preacher then left the confessional booth, feeling renewed and happy with himself.