I grew up in a large ultra religious Catholic family. I discovered the joy of masturbation in Junior High, and despite the guilt trip I put myself through, usually succumbed to my horniness on an almost nightly basis. When I was 18, my mother walked in on me one afternoon when I thought I was all alone in the house. Not only was I incredibly embarrassed, I was then subjected to hours of lectures on how I was going to Hell, that I was succumbing to the devil, and all the other dogma crap. The worst part was that my mother insisted that I go to confession, and receive penance. I was terrified. Not only did I have to talk about what I did, and to a man, I had to talk to a priest!
I got to the confessional, and the priest slid the door open. Our church had small screens, which I hated becuase you could actually see the priest. Fortunately it was the youngest priest in our Parish Father John, because the old farts creeped me out. I made up a totally bogus confession about having stolen some candy from the store. When I was done, Father John asked 'what else?'. I replied nothing, and he paused and said the words I will never forget: 'I spoke with your mother'. I immediately began sobbing and blubbering, and the priest was very kind, forgave me my sins, and then said we should talk in his office.
When we got to his office, I was still upset and crying. He gave me a box of tissues, and sat next to me on the couch. He told me to not be upset. That God made our bodies, and God gave us pleasure of sex. His matter of fact manner allowed me to calm down, and we had a long discussion about sex and masturbation. He told me that thank God most people dont get 'caught' masturbating, otherwise he'd be in confession 24/7. I was so naive (no sex-ed in Catholic school back then), and he frankly answered every question I had. I asked him about how boys 'do it', and he described it. That actually got me horny. I told him about doing 'it' almost every night, and he said that wasn't unusual, and then told me that boys did it even more.
So I asked him if he did 'it', and after a slight pause said yes. It was then that I noticed the bulge in his pants. He was getting turned on too! A Priest! Then I touched him. In the few seconds before he pulled my hand off him, I felt how hard and long it was. I begged him to show me how boys do it. He said no, and I touched him again, and begged him to. He didn't pull my hand off that time, and I rubbed him. He put his hand on top of mine and pushed it into his crotch harder. I reached up and pulled his zipper down, and tried to put my hand in, and he pulled it out, and stood up and stared at me. I got really nervous and stammered out an apology, but he smiled, and reached in and pulled it out. Wow. I had no idea that penises got that big. (All these years later I can now say that he was fairly normal sized, but I had no idea about penises then).
He walked over and locked his door, and it was flopping up and down, which made me moist. He unbuckled his pants, slid them and his underwear down, and sat back down, and slowly stroked it. I stared at it. With the large flaring head, jet black pubic hair, and hairy low hanging balls, it almost looked angry. I slid my hand over and touched it, then ran my hand up to the soft head. I started to stroke him like he had been doing, and was rubbing myself over my drenched panties. He slid his hand up my skirt, and rubbed me. It was like a thousand jolts of electricity went through me when he slipped his hand into my panties, and flicked my clit. I quickly pulled my panties off, and he hiked my skirt up so my pussy was showing.
I spread my legs wide, and he alternated between teasing my clit and finger fucking me. We sat there silently for about ten minutes rubbing each other, when he pulled his hand off me, threw his head back, thrusting his hips into my hand, and started to breathe faster. He pulled his shirt up, held his hips in mid thrust, and then his semen spurted all over his stomach. Another thing I knew nothing about! He grabbed some tissues from the box and mopped himself up, then went back to pleasuring me. He cupped my breast in his other hand and rubbed my nipple through my bra. I was so wet that you could hear the faint slurping as he vigorously rubbed me. I felt my orgasm building, and then exploded with the longest most intense feeling of my life. For the first time in my life, I didnt feel guilty after my orgasm. But he did. He was very nervous as we each got ourselves back together and said we must not ever talk or do it again.
As I walked home, I was aglow. It was like the weight of the world was lifted. The best was when I got home and my mother grilled me about it. I told her the priest said I must never do it again, and that I had learned a valuable lesson.
Father John really helped open my eyes, and soon there after I became sexually active, with no latent guilt. He, however left the priesthood not long after that.