whimper.
He shifted his hips, almost imperceptibly. Then, rocking slowly, tightly against her face, he prayed. ‘Heavenly Father, forgive this child. Forgive her lust, forgive her lewd behaviour.’
The longer he prayed, the harder he pressed her face against his erection.
‘Grant her purity in thought, word and deed.’
As he rocked, ever so cautiously, she reached up and unbuttoned his trousers.
He pretended not to notice as she eased down his zipper.
‘For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.’
His grip tightened in her hair and he caught his breath with a gasp as she tugged his trousers over his hips along with his briefs. His cock practically leapt into her hand.
‘Please forgive… please forgive… urgh.’
She took his erection in her mouth, deeper and deeper, until he moaned out loud and stopped pretending not to thrust.
She was beginning to fear he had no more imagination than to simply stand there and ejaculate in her mouth, when he shoved away and yanked her to her feet. He pulled the rosary from her neck and, with a sharp thwack , slapped it across her tits, just hard enough to sting. ‘You’re a slut, and you need to repent.’ He smacked her again and she moaned as he shoved her blouse off onto the floor. Then he grabbed her tits, squeezing and kneading. The rosary wound around his hand pressed solicitously into the soft swell of her. She arched her back as he suckled and bit her nipples. Pain translated to pleasure in her cunt.
He bound her hands loosely behind her back with her scarf and bent her over the altar. ‘Our lives are to be a living sacrifice unto the Lord.’ He shoved her skirt up, exposing her arse to Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. He smacked each buttock in turn with the rosary, making her pussy clench.
‘Forgive me,’ she cried. ‘Lord, please forgive me.’ The beads came down again with a thwack.
‘This–’ he slapped her pussy with the flat of his hand ‘–is consecrated unto the Lord. This–’ he smacked her again ‘–is the sacred space from which life springs. It wasn’t created for lust.’
‘I’m so ashamed,’ she lied.
He smacked her bottom again with the beads, then he began to pray for her in earnest, grunting with each thwack of the beads.
‘Father forgive this woman, purify her heart.’
Thwack!
She cried out and wriggled her stinging arse.
‘Purify her mind.’
Thwack!
She practically humped the edge of the altar with every smack. ‘Purify her body, so abused by her lust.’
Thwack!
When her orgasm hit, she squealed and bucked and practically kicked the priest in the balls.
He jammed the rosary into his pocket and fumbled and grunted in an effort to press his cock into her pout.
‘No so fast, father.’ She pushed him away and half fell off the altar, wriggling her hands free of the scarf. ‘I think it’s about time you confessed.’ She shoved him against the wall.
‘Take off your shirt.’ She was already at work on his buttons. ‘Take that off too.’ She nodded to the collar.
Panting hard, he obeyed.
She slipped into his black shirt, buttoning a single button across the fullness of her breasts. ‘Help me with the collar.’
He did as he was told.
When it was securely in place, she scooped up her blouse, then looped the scarf around his neck and tugged.
Holding up his trousers with one hand, while his cock bounced at full attention, he followed her into the confessional.
‘Kneel.’
He obeyed.
‘You’ve been a very naughty priest.’ She slipped off her skirt and stood in nothing but his black shirt and priest’s collar and her fuck-me stilettos, then she took his hand and guided it between her legs.
His other hand reached for his cock. She slapped it away. ‘I want to hear your confession.’
He took his hand from her pussy and crossed himself. ‘Bless me, father, for I have sinned. It’s been…’
She slapped his face with a resounding smack, and his penis surged in response. ‘I’m
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
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Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham