Corruption by dampersandspoons

Chapter 9: Hallellujah

Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord

That David played and it pleased the Lord

But you don’t really care for music do ya?

Well it goes like this

The fourth, the fifth

The minor fall and the major lift

The baffled king composing hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty in the moonlight over threw ya

She tied you to her kitchen chair

And she broke your throne and she cut your hair

And from your lips she drew the hallelujah

Baby I’ve been here before

I’ve seen this room and I’ve walked this floor

I used to live alone before I knew ya

I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch

And love is not a victory march

It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

There was a time when you let me know

What’s real and going on below

But now you never show that to me do ya?

And remember when I moved in you

The holy dove was moving too,

and every breath we drew was hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You say I took the name in vain

I don’t even know the name

But if I did, well really, what’s it to ya?

There’s a blaze of light in every word

It doesn’t matter which you’ve heard

The holy or the broken hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn’t much

I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch

I’ve told the truth I didn’t come to fool ya.

And even though it went all wrong

I’ll stand before the Lord of Song

With nothing on my tongue but hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

-Leonard Cohen

~*~*~*~*~

She was beautiful when she was asleep. He’d been staring at her for a while now, memorizing her features. Buffy was sprawled out on her back, her arms flung over her head and one leg sticking out of the sheets and dangling off the side of the bed. She looked completely and utterly spent and a small smile appeared on William’s lips, knowing that he was the reason. He propped his head up on his fist and examined her closely while his mind wandered. He traced her collarbones with his fingers. They were so delicate, so fragile, much like the rest of her tiny frame. He wondered if her mother was petite as well. Did Buffy have her mother’s mouth or her father’s eyes? She never spoke of them, though she never spoke of hardly anything. William was just as guilty.

Everything about this relationship gave him pause and at the same time, exalted him from the desperate loneliness he’d felt his entire life. He didn’t know if he was willing to go back to that, but he knew at some point, he’d have to. Someone would find out, or she’d go away and he’d be left alone again. William wasn’t an optimist when it came to his personal life. He was optimistic for his students, for his parish, for his Sisters…because they needed hope. Most people did, he wagered, but William had long ago accepted his fate in life as nothing more than what he’d made of himself. But Buffy changed all of that. Buffy made him see what he’d been missing, what he needed to feel, what everyone needs to feel at one time. He didn’t know if it was love, didn’t know if it was just a common understanding between two people that just needed comfort. But it was nice. And even if he couldn’t have her forever, even if something took her away from him, he knew that it would have been worth it. To feel this at all gave him a kind of peace that he’d never known before. He wasn’t a selfish man, and he’d never ask her for anything. He was grateful every day for what they had, whatever it was that they had.

What was truly interesting and terrifying to him was the fact that her age hadn’t even been in the forefront of his mind lately. In the beginning, he’d chastised and punished himself for his sinful thoughts and actions towards her, even though there was nothing illegal per se about what they were doing. She was eighteen, an adult by all standards; however, the teacher/student relationship would certainly cause a fuss, not to mention his position of priesthood. While punishing himself, he drank. And it was during those drunken moments that William would laugh. The thought that a priest was having an illicit affair with a student who was female certainly wouldn’t make headlines. Now, if Buffy were a ten year old boy in a porno ring, well…that would certainly be different. So maybe he wasn’t half bad.

But comparing sin was a sin in and of itself, or so he said so many times it started to lose meaning.

Buffy shifted slightly in her sleep and the sheet slid down her body, tempting William with her nipples that peeked over the edge. He began a slow exploration of them, marveling in her body’s reaction to his touch.

Did he believe in God? Certainly. Of course. That went without saying. Did he feel remorse for his behavior? In some ways, yes, in others, not in the slightest. Making a vow to Christ was not something one took lightly. It was a commitment stronger than marriage, a devotion unbreakable in the eyes of God. And yet, he’d been breaking that vow for the last two months, starting with the very first day he brought Miss Summers into his office and ordered her to bend over his desk. For weeks he’d fantasized about her and he knew it was wrong, yet he couldn’t stop. And her poor behavior never ceased either. It seemed she was trying to get into trouble, pushing the boundaries as far as she could to see what he’d do. The day he made her come was the alpha and omega of his sad little life. The fact that he was able to do that to her without even touching her gave him a sense of pride as well as an onslaught of terror for the consequences of his actions. He’d opened the gate to his innermost desires and she went right through it willingly.

He leaned forward and traced her areola with his tongue while his hand gently cupped the other breast. Buffy stirred though she never woke. He smiled and circled her nipple, and then lightly tugged on it with his teeth.

But what could he do? He’d already crossed the line with her after she teased him in the confessional booth. He knew instantly who she was dreaming of, and whether or not it was a lie to manipulate him into her proverbial bed, he’d never know. But it was his last chance, his final test and he failed miserably. In a house of the Lord, he’d blasphemed and sinned again and again with no remorse…at least, not much.

Did he feel remorse now? Could he ask for God’s forgiveness in all sincerity? No, he couldn’t. Because in order to be forgiven, he would have to stop this, admit to the Diocese what he’d done and leave it up to them how they wanted to deal with the situation. A humble man is a man forgiven. It would be the only way to absolve him and continue being a priest, if they’d even allow it. So he had a few options, and none of them sounded very promising. He could leave the church; abandon his calling, his vows, his everything…and what? Get an apartment with Buffy? Find a job teaching at some public school for horrible wages? Would she even want to live with him?

He could continue the reckless pattern they were on now and admit nothing, hoping to never get caught. But then what after that? What happens when she graduates? Seeing Buffy would be near impossible with him living at the school, except on holidays and the summer. But even in the summer, he stayed at the school, had lived there for eight years now. They’d surely be caught eventually.

William slid one hand beneath the sheet and gingerly stroked her folds, smiling as he laid his head on her stomach. Even while sleeping, he was able to make her wet. Her legs fell open involuntarily and he watched as her mouth slowly opened to sigh softly.

Then there was the third option. The one he refused to think about. And that was to end things with Buffy, repent for his sins, and hopefully move on with his life in the comfort he’d been all too familiar with for the past ten years. Comfort was a funny choice of word when it came to William. To be on the outside looking in, it might appear that William’s choice to become a priest and live the way he had was, well, he didn’t know what others thought of it. He knew his room was bare, lacked any kind of warmth, and void of any personal touches. Living in such a sparse arrangement was freeing in a way. An open canvas, no clutter, no distractions, nothing to remind him of what he’d left behind. Then he could focus on his scriptures, his work, his duty and never feel regret. In that way, he was free to be a man of God, and what a thing to be. Not many were able to commit to something so severe, but he’d had confidence in himself and in his faith that he could do it.

Why he’d decided to in the first place should have been a red flag, but William needed to escape, needed to prove something. Pride and God didn’t get along very well.

William pulled the sheet down completely and settled between her legs. Since she was asleep, he could take his time to really look. She’d shaved, he noticed, and the tips of his fingers stroked her skin, reveling in the velvety smooth texture surrounding her vulva. She left a tiny patch of hair on her mound, a little wispy triangle of dark blond curls that begged to be touched. His hands caressed her thighs and his head lolled to the side, lying on her hip while his left hand continued to stroke her slowly, delicately spreading her open and curling upwards to graze her clit.

What if she knew, he wondered. What if she finally discovered who he was? He was only recently becoming aware of who that person was, who he’d been trying to be for years. His father had been right all along. Maybe he’d listen to him now.

William placed a soft kiss to her mound, and kissed his way down sweetly to her entrance, darting his tongue out to lick her from bottom to top. He heard her sharp intake of breath and grinned coyly. He inserted his pointer finger slowly and drew her clit into his warm mouth, closing his eyes momentarily at the taste and feel of her. He felt her tiny fingers scratching his scalp and he knew he’d woken her up. Without opening his eyes or saying a word, he continued his assault, slowly driving her to madness.

The worst part about all of this was that he was a grown man who had feelings for a teenager. What did that say about him? What did it say about her? Was she another lost child, a victim of neglect that turned to older males for security because her own father never gave her any? Was William just another misogynist who took delight in dominance? Was he reliving the days of his youth long past? A mid life crisis at the age of thirty-one? What exactly was their relationship? Sex? Connection? Understanding? He wished he could talk to someone about it, someone removed from the situation to give him some guidance. His thoughts were too muddled, too confusing to organize properly and worse, they were consumed with Buffy. With her taste, her eyes, her smell, her skin, her everything that made him want her desperately. It was more than infatuation, more than some perversion, more than a human need for comfort. What, he didn’t know but he wasn’t going to pigeon-hole their entire relationship into some stereotype or genre too acute to allow room for change. His feelings were real and true, spilling out from the very core of him. That had to mean something.

“Good morning,” he said huskily, abandoning her pussy momentarily to crawl up her body and capture her lips in a kiss.

Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and William melted against her as her tongue darted out to taste herself from his lips. Without warning, he was inside her, swallowing the tiny gasp that escaped her mouth. She surrounded him completely, hugged his cock with a tight embrace, held on when he tried to pull out and welcomed him lovingly when he returned. Her legs were around his waist, her teeth nipped at his throat and her pelvis writhed against his as he took her passionately, moaning her name with every intrusion.

Buffy had changed him. Was he a bad man now? Would God understand what they had? Would anyone? And what of her family, or his family? Were they both so deluded, so wrapped up in each other that they failed to see how wrong it was? He didn’t know. All he knew was the feel of her beneath him, her green eyes searching his, her swollen red lips pleading with him to make her come, her fingers digging into his scalp and her breasts pressed against his chest. Maybe they could stay in this hotel forever.

He buried his mouth in her neck and hooked his arms beneath her legs to go deeper. She let out a keening wail as his fingers grazed her clit and his pelvis twisted in this new position. She came in seconds, clawing at his back, twining her legs with his, wanting him closer, deeper, lost inside her as she came undone. William’s thrusts became frantic, his hips moving of their own volition as he sought his own release. She encouraged him sweetly, kissing his cheeks, his neck, scratching him in his favorite places, and finally he came, releasing all the tension he had that morning with a strangled moan…a moan that sounded very much like “I love you.”

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