THE PRIEST 1 by 777shewolf777

Feature Writer: 777shewolf777

Feature Title: THE PRIEST 1

Published: 04.02.2011

Story Codes: Religious Themes

Synopsis: Confessions of a Mother

The Priest 1

After all the amoral sex I have been having, it was time I confessed my many sins, clearing my guilty conscience, needing to start anew. I went to church one afternoon, the building empty, dark as if denying evil spirits tempted to flow through the stained glass windows. I slipped into a confession booth, preparing mentally how to tell a man who was forbidden to have sexual intercourse.

“How may I help you, my child of God?”

“Father, I ask for forgiveness for I have sinned, repeatedly, and I was wicked and wanton, a total slut. There have been many men and a few women the past year, and I am sure there are more to come…I am addicted to sex.”

“Come now, child, it cannot be that bad. I am here, please, go on. Let me cleanse your soul, and help make you pure.”

“I just can’t help it, my body gets this intense yearning, the blood in my veins race at top speed, my pussy beginning to seep, panties catching the droplets, savoring the essence of a female body. My tits swell, nipples hard as I close my eyes caressing the tips of my fingers, nails raking, tantalizing as my head falls back in ecstasy. I adore men savoring my body, watching them fall at my feet with primitive desires that reach beyond human imagination, a dark evil rush, one you cannot begin to picture.”

The priest gruff breath drifted in the silence, desire evident with each puff, the shifting on the bench as his robes rustled. I could see the shadow of his face, his piercing eyes glowing with interest, pure male fascination of an attractive woman in her prime; a lone man, unable to attain the ultimate goal. “Tell me,” he spoke softly, urging me on, “what happens when you find that special lover for the night? Who was the last person you possessed, who claimed you?”

I laid my head back against the wall, closing my eyes, trying to picture; remembering, who was the last lover I had, the recent tryst I was involved in, the magic that was created. Taking a deep breath, I began,” It was a couple nights ago, I went to a ball, representing my company for the night, many prestigious people showed up, a big hit. I dressed in black chiffon, very feminine, showing off all my curves, so sleek and sheer I was unable to wear my matching black silk panty set. I slipped into a pair of stilettos, accenting my legs; my best feature I think, and had my make done, not much but enough to show my natural beauty too, the pout of my lips. I felt like Cinderella.”

Sighing gently, memories flashing like a movie within my head, I continued, “The banquet hall was equally amazing, a snowy festival of lights, and the music from the eighteen hundreds, waltz, Beethoven and whatnot, a little girls dream come true. Men and women dressed extravagantly, laughing and dancing among their peers; waiters and servers floating throughout, passing out champagne and appetizers. For hours, I enjoyed myself, dancing and flirting, admiring gazes from the men and jealous glances from the women. With every passing minute, my body was steaming, nipples puckering, and my cream sifting through my lower curls. Just thinking about this makes me hot; I want to touch myself, my buds peaking, and so painful and erect.”

I heard a small grunt through the barrier, smiling wistfully as I started to ease the pleasure-pain in my throbbing chest, my mounds clearly remembering how it felt that night, each pluck, pinch racing through my trembling form.” It was during one of the dances that I met him, my mystery man, spinning my around the dance floor with practiced ease, arrogance, that I admired, arching my brow in defiance. There were no words, our eyes betraying our thoughts, our secret desires, movements a tease; bodies chasing, breasts brushing chest, thighs rubbing, thin material a slight barrier and our scent drifting, heightening our passion, knowing we could not hold back any longer.”

“What did you do next?” Barked a rough voice, no longer inquiring but commanding, wanting to things he denied himself through worshipping the church, his God. He was panting as he shifted more in his seat, easing the ached between his thighs; his breath was pelting into my small space, telling me that he was as excited as I was.

“We found a discreet corner by the terrace, the cool breeze adding to our already rising temperatures, our body heat steamy, breaths mingling as his mouth swoops down to devour mine, our first kisses. It seems that they lasted hours, the love bites and nibbling, I just ate him up. His lips tasted so good, spicy, male; I can feel them now,” I sighed a second time, trim fingers brushing over my plump lips, feeling my ballroom lover like he was there with me now. “With my tongue I felt his mouth, brushing against his teeth, delighting in his shivers as I explored to my continent. Our tongues wrestled, a lover play if you will, dueling, fighting to become the conqueror, my fingers sliding into his hair, gripping, holding him still so I could fuck his mouth.”

Harsh breathing interrupted my remembrance. The rustle of robes prominent in the small chamber, his distress, unresolved relief a major frustration, and now a big distraction as he choked, “When does he touch your luscious tits? Your panting pussy?”

Laughing seductively, I answer, “Soon, my love soon. We grind our bodies, groins humping fiercely before I become impatient, ripping his tuxedo jacket off, and flinging it to the floor. His shirt came next, buttons scattering the dance floor, my mouth pulled from his as I follow with my tongue, laving each exposed area, tasting his masculine flesh, reveling in his scent. His male nipples beckoned, hard as nails, the tip of my tongue flicking his bud, escalating a harsh moan from deep within his soul, ignoring it my claws finishing with the shirttails, then tossing it aside. With frantic moves, my markings are displayed proudly on his chest, hickeys along his ribs, tapering off when I reach his belly, and what a belly it is, nice and flat.”

It was now my turn to adjust my seating, thighs clenching, trying to hold back, and I went on with my story, my most recent sin. “As I loved this mans stomach, my hands were busy tearing open his dress pants, the zipper rasping, my greedy hands reaching for its goal…his cock, the most sinuous part of him.” I paused to lick my dry lips. “Mmm…he was soooo hard, thick steel encased in silk, his head a large mushroom, liquid seeping from the tip. My mouth was watering. I knelt on the cool floor, cupping his staff with one hand and his ass in the other; and what a firm ass he had, muscles clenched as my nails took hold. I trialed my teeth lovingly along the rim, giggling when he shuddered, trying like all men to stay in control, the hand stroking his butt strolling in between his spread thighs. From behind, I gently grasp his testicles, rolling them in my warm palm, enjoying his weakness, my mouth.”

A ragged plea broke through my thoughts. “Tell me more about his…dick. I want to know how deep you take him…ughhh…what brings him to his knees.” There was more rustling, the sound of a zipper, the sigh of slight easing. Then the real seduction begins, he grabs his member at the base, his sac tight, pulled deep against his groin, the length pulsing. “Please speak of your hands caressing his bottom, his hole…do you fill it?”

“You know it,” I confirm, leaning forward as if to whisper, letting it be our secret. “As I gulped him deep into my heated cavern, tongue wrapping lovingly around his penis, I slid a finger far into his butt hole, wiggling it playfully, delighting in his jerk, and his shaft thrusting down my throat, a little squirt of cum escaping. He tried very hard to keep his cool, even going as far as pinching his own sac to halt his ejaculation, a desperate cry flying out of his mouth, lips thin in agony. His hips pumped unknowingly in rhythm to my finger twitching in and out of his muscled tush, my suction remaining firm, giving him please from both directions, refusing to let go until he gave the power to me. I decided to make it more difficult, wanting him to lose control; I gurgled, the tremors shooting straight to his head…literally.” I gave a small giggle. “He blew, falling to his knees in a rush, the spray starting my in mouth, tracing down to my chin and creating a pond between my breasts, soaking into the material of my dress.”

My listener was spellbound, mesmerized with my fairytale. He inquired more,” How did he taste? It is your turn, yes, my rebellious one.”

I was slightly impressed by the strength this noble man had, jacking off but still able to question more about my rhonchus night. He was getting close to explosion himself, the quickening of his hand, hearing flesh move over pure steel. “You are right, sir, it is definitely my turn. I refused to let my lover, my prince if you will, go. I grabbed both sides of my dress, hitching them up my long legs while doing a slow dance close to his lowered head. Letting go of one side, I clutched his hair, yanking him up, facing me. Smiling vindictively, I straddle his face; instinct took over as he plunged his tongue into my dripping pussy. Throwing back my head, I gasp, rubbing my groin into his face, his jaw locking, keeping his muscle tight as I ride him, silently demanding my pleasure.”

“Yes…yes,” murmured the Father. “I can taste you, sweet and womanly. He had no chance of denying you, my child.”

I laughed again, softly breathing through the opening, the barrier separating us. “His face was covered in my cream, coating him in my scent, not letting up until he swallowed all I had to offer. He shuddered as I gave him one last lingering kiss, meshing our fluids one last time, sucking his tongue down my throat, growling with ecstasy as a final little orgasm rolled through me.” Sitting quietly for a minute, I absorbed what just happened, for now my short, sultry tale was not my last affair. “Thank you, Father, for I feel much better, forgiven if you may.”

As I leave the steamy confessional booth, the priest cried out softly, his explosion shooting out through the barrier and meshing with the wet spot on the opposite bench. Quietly praying to his savior for his own wanton behavior, the Father damned both himself and the mystery woman, his blackened soul praying for her return.

THE END OF CHAPTER ONE

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