Feature Writer: coppaJChristo
Feature Title: SIN AND VIRTUE 2
Published: 12.09.2019
Story Codes: Fetish, WS
Synopsis: Lily pees while watching her unexpected visitor do the same.
Authors Notes: All characters in this story are 18 or older
Sin and Virtue 02
Towel wrapped tight over her breasts, hair chill beneath a whirling ceiling fan, Lily sits on her bed reading the instructions on the ruled paper. She bites her lip.
If she does this… and it doesn’t work? If Estlyn was lying? She would be disowned by her parents, excommunicated from the church. She’d be the subject of the kind of whispers that preempt misery and ruin. She’d have no choice but to run, and with what? She has no savings, no income but that which her parents afford her.
But the truth is, every detail down to her garment requirements evokes an electric tingle from her genitals to the back of her neck. The very idea of getting caught makes her damp. A twisted part of her imagines what that would be like… The thrill of knowing that any witness confronted with sexual deviancy in the church Rectory would be prone to a severe reaction, probably starting with arousal no matter how the reaction evolved from there. And that Lily’s actions caused it… That she mattered so much to anyone… Such temptation is a powerful motivator until the rational part of Lily’s mind circles back to the aftermath of such an encounter.
It would be her nightmare. It would be Hell. And if a dark master is truly behind this as Estlyn has implied, wouldn’t he find himself overjoyed at his trickery, at his ability to take advantage of a foolish, narcissistic, pathetic young woman?
She looks once more at the ruled page, written in a sharp, precise hand, and finds that it makes her head throb just behind her eyes. Reaching into the tote bag that Estlyn gave her, she strokes the crimson phallus that might as well have been molded from a bull’s cock. How would that ever fit inside her? Lily imagined it stretching her cunt, Father Adam’s cock ejaculating into her throat, his sticky seed forced into her stomach.
The page sits on the bed now, and Lily has leaned against her headboard, the towel parted to admit her hand. Fingertips dance along her crease, teasing it open to collect the slick arousal between the ruddy, fleshy flaps, and smooth it up against her hardening clit. She flicks herself, encouraging her own engorgement, and her clit begins to peak out from under its hood.
She imagines entering the Rectory corridor, walking at pace to enjoy the dangerous flutter of her short skirt, the drafts of air playing with her wild pubic hair and caressing her soaked inner lips. She’s been this aroused before, when she’d turned eighteen and visited that sex shop in Avery. Every step was a sensual motion, passing down aisle upon aisle of the tools of pleasure, one side of her drooling crevice slipping against the other as her legs moved. She imagines how it will be different with air kissing her lower lips, nothing but lack of a willing consort keeping her from spreading her legs to admit fingers, tongue, cock.
When Lily does this for real, she wonders if the very act could make her cum.
It has to be tonight. Not the least because she can’t bear to wait longer, but because she’s in danger of losing her nerve with every hour, every minute that passes.
The page is returned to the tote as she uses the same hand to release the towel from her torso, to then glide a tongue-moistened finger over the sensitive pink peaks of her nipples. Lily lifts her feet onto the bed and allows her knees to fall apart. The breeze from the ceiling fan causes her dark pubic hair to tremble before she cups her entire mound with her hand. She pinches her nipple with one hand and begins to rub her puffy cunt with the other.
Mmmmm, she moans softly, petting the coarse hair firmly, exploring the sensations across her sex. She can smell herself, her pussy, and as she is wont to do, Lily’s fingers carve a path through her valley to bring her fluid and scent to her nose. She sniffs her fingers, places them in her mouth to taste the tang of her desire. She does it again, takes in the drug of her own sex. That smell, floral from the lingering body wash and musky with her lust; she can’t get enough of it.
And she remembers Estlyn not two hours ago, the girl’s small mouth petaled against Lily’s lower lips, tongue lapping at Lily’s pee hole as she begged to taste the foul water. What did that taste like, Lily wonders?
At her bedside, Lily keeps a glass of water. It’s still full from the night before and she reaches for it, her intention to drain the glass making room to fill it again. After a few sips, she thinks better of it, leaving the glass half full.
Scooting to the edge of the bed, Lily positions her towel folded double beneath her bottom, hands shaking with excitement at the naughty thing she’s about to do. She rocks back and forth to part her ass cheeks, her pucker pressed against the threads of the towel, everything opening up. It’s difficult to see the anatomy of her cunt over the swell of her substantial breasts and little belly pudge, so she uses her fingertips to align the edge of the glass with the opening of her love canal, her urethra aimed into the glass. In a moment of abandon, Lily begins to rub the glass up and down her snatch, catching her clitoris here and there, smearing her arousal all over the vessel. She will better know Estlyn’s experience this way.
Aligning the glass once more, Lily relaxes, breathing through waves of repressed excitement. Her body is on fire, and coaxing the pee to come by force of will is not the right method.
Breathe. Relax. It’s just like a toilet but smaller.
And in your bedroom.
On your bed.
She tilts her head back at the pleasant burn of liquid dribbling out of her. Unnnnnggggg. Lily fights to control the hand holding the glass while her fingers rub her clit, the orgasm rushing suddenly upward. She breathes harder as she hears the splash of her jet increase, and her fingertips swirl over her clit, faster and faster.
Ung, she chirps softly. Ung. Ung. Ung.
Lily pees into the glass, her golden liquor swirling, the delicate smell of it reaching her nose. Faster she rubs, faster. Here it comes. Here it comes!
Urine and water flow over her fingers as she overfills the glass. But she can’t stop! Her climax is… is… IS… CUMMING!
“I’m cumming!” she whispers to herself, pee water splashing on the hardwood below her bed. “I’m cumming!” The strength of Lily’s orgasm clenches her bladder, and her pleasure stretches through time as a jet of hot liquid streams from between her fat, dripping lips and into the overflowing glass.
She mustn’t wait for her orgasm to die, for her ejaculation to stop! Still rubbing her pussy, the orgasm still rolling through her body, Lily pulls the glass to her mouth. Pee water splashes onto her belly and tits, dribbles down her chin and neck as she fills her waiting tummy, as the last of her urine flows out of her pee hole, down her gully and onto the towel that protects her bed. She drafts the muted gold from the glass into her mouth, her tongue slathering the outside of the vessel to add the taste of her lust to the mix. The ghost of a second orgasm chains to the first as she cups and rubs her entire mound. Gulp. Gulp. Salty and acrid and so very naughty.
When her second climax finally fades, she’s drained her night glass of its foul contents. She imagines what Estlyn tasted… her face buried in unwashed pussy, taking fully concentrated piss into her mouth. All the while begging for it, like a pathetic, sex-starved lunatic. Lily is nearly taken by a third orgasm, but she can’t quite get up the hill, and she lets it drift away.
Her pussy is swollen and wet and a little numb. Her pubic hair is laced with the droplets of her voracious masturbation. With the lingering aftertaste of something indescribable on the back of her tongue, Lily looks down at the mess she has made.
“Shit,” she whispers.
Luckily she drank most of her pee. Unfortunately, the towel is still stained yellow. She going to have to get this into the washer before Mother sees it. Slipping from the bed, her toes softly splashing in a puddle of her piss, Lily uses the drier parts of the towel to wipe her face and neck and bust. She passes it over her belly and rubs it against her pussy, between her thighs. And she drops it to the floor to sop up the rest of her piss.
What would Estlyn’s piss taste like? What would Adam’s? She should be disgusted with herself. In a way, she is. But also… a feeling warms her core at the thought. No time for that now.
Lily decides there’s no time to shower again, either. She slips a yellow sundress over her head and it hangs from her shoulders and breasts. Her mother shakes her head when Lily walks around the house without a bra. Her daddy averts his eyes, though it doesn’t stop Lily from trying to see an erection grow against his pants. Daddy is a man, after all. There’s no shame in being excited by the shape of breasts, as long as that’s where it stops. And if Lily is being honest with herself, she thrills at knowing she can cause that reaction in a man, even if that man is her daddy.
After spritzing herself with extra perfume to hide any lingering scent of pee or musk, Lily rolls her dark, damp waves of hair into a ponytail and looks at her face in the mirror. She has nice skin, she supposes. And she has heard people comment that her upturned nose is cute. What will Father Adam think of her full lips? Will he think about pressing his dick through them? She reaches down to collect the gold chain from her open jewelry box, upon it a tiny gold cross that her grandmother gave her. It adorns Lily’s neck before she scoops up her soiled towel bound for the laundry room.
“Lily?” calls Mother from downstairs. “Come down, dear! Company!”
Ack! Why? Why now? Lily is distracted enough, and there’s planning to do. But Mother will see it. There’s no tolerance for distraction in the Malvagio home when company is afoot. Breathing, Lily turns on a smile that it might color her voice. “Be right there!”
The sound of the washing machine fades as she jaunts down the staircase, with the afterthought of regret at her breasts bouncing and pulling. She probably should have put on the bra. Mother is going to be upset. And if Mother knew what Lily had just been doing in her room… A wild tingle fired down Lily’s spine.
“Bring my calendar, will you?” calls Mother.
Lily snatches the family calendar from its hook aside the spice cabinet and walks lightly through the kitchen to emerge in the dining room and on to the living room. Why the woman can’t use Google like everyone else…
She can feel the blood drain from her face as she freezes between the rooms. There on the royal blue couch, sipping a golden glass of Mother’s too-sweet, too-sour lemonade, is the svelte, black clad figure of Father Adam. His eyes widen ever-so slightly at Lily’s presence, and so do Mother’s. For the same reason likely, though expressing very different emotions.
Lily is painfully aware of her large breasts dangling heavily from her chest, nothing but a thin yellow weave between her nipples and Father Adam’s gaze. But… This is how desirable women dress, don’t they? It’s a struggle to keep her arms at her sides, and she has to will her mouth closed.
“Well, hello, Lily,” says Father Adam with his trace Italian accent. He lowers his glass. “Won’t you sit down?”
“I, uh,” stammers Lily. Be cool. “Hi.”
Mother stares daggers from her thin countenance. Through taught lips, she says, “I think you’ve forgotten your house coat. DEAR.”
“Oh, well it’s too hot for that, isn’t it, Mrs. Malvagio?” says Father Adam heartily.
“Yes, but,” says Mother, “that’s not exactly…”
Father Adam’s eyes narrow, and Mother is oddly silenced. A rarity to be certain, but Father Adam has that effect on all people, men and women alike. “I am a man of God,” he says softly. “If I cannot manage my reaction to a beautiful young woman in this modern age, well, there is not hope for the Church, certainly.”
“But wouldn’t you…?” begins Mother.
“Lily,” says Father Adam. “Please sit. I have something I want to ask you.”
Lily’s mind is still playing through the notion that he called her beautiful.
When Lily’s legs agree to move, she steps forward, trying her best to seem casual. She knows that she seems anything but. Handing the calendar absently to her mother, Lily steps to where Father Adam is rubbing the blue cloth of the cushion, and she presses her knees together firmly, praying that no one notices an absence of panties. Once she has somehow seated herself beside Father Adam without hyperventilating, and no one has exclaimed any great distress at seeing her exposed cooch, Father Adam speaks.
“Lily, I’ve been asking around, and I understand you were a very active member of the local faith community. That is, up until you left for college last autumn.”
“Um, yes. College is in Texas, and I couldn’t realistically…”
“No, no,” he says with a laugh. “That’s not even a concern. What I’ve learned is that you were a very influential member of the community here.”
“I was?”
“And your presence was very missed. To the point that Father Gregory has commented on a number of occasions that he couldn’t quite get the traction he had with the youth group after your departure. Did you know this?”
“Oh, um, not really. I organized the youth group activities and a few church functions, but that was all.”
“It was a lot of work, wasn’t it? Requiring no small amount of skill and drive.”
“Someone had to do it.”
Father Adam nods, and a rakish smile claims his face. “Exactly the attitude I was hoping for. As you know, I’m only visiting this parish for a short time, and next week, I’ll return to Rome.”
Lily swallows. She did know that, and every time she thinks of him leaving, it feels as though a vice is compressing her heart.
Father Adam reaches forward and takes Lily’s hands in his own. His are warm hands, soft hands, large hands. Her breath comes at a tremble as she tries to keep herself in check. “What would you think about coming back to Rome with me?”
There’s no repressing her reaction. “Huh?!”
“You would study abroad, just for a semester. You’d attend normal university classes most days, and every Friday you would be one of my pupils, intent on becoming a missionary leader. This is a very prestigious program, Lily, fully funded by the Church.”
Lily’s head whips toward her mother, who despite the topic and Lily’s provocative dress, is actually grinning. The woman practically had a coronary when Lily chose a college in the adjacent state. Mother said, “We’ve talked about it, yes. And with your father.” She points to the calendar in her hand. “You see? Lily leaves for Rome. In pencil right here.” Lifting a brow she says, “I knew you weren’t checking the calendar.”
“And after you graduate from your American university,” says Father Adam, “you’ll receive your assignment. It would be a four year mission to a community in need. To be far, these are some very troubled placed, Lily. It would not be comfortable, and it could be dangerous, but it is above all things the will of Jesus that we show compassion and bravery.”
Lily is speechless for a few breaths while words form in her head, slowly leaking toward her mouth. “You would be my teacher?” she says to the priest.
“I’ve been called by Cardinal Molska to educate our future missionary leaders. In all honesty, my intent in visiting Louisiana was never recreational. It was to seek Father Gregory’s counsel and begin recruitment. And he named you, Lily Malvagio. So here I am.”
“Here we are!” says Lily’s mother, beaming. She presses her hands firmly into her lap in exclamation. “Oh your father and I are so proud! Of course she’ll accept your offer, Father Adam, though we’ll miss her so and pray for her daily. It has always been our hope that she would serve the Church. But this?” She exhales heavily, her eyes beginning to glisten with emotion.
It’s all happening so fast. Only minutes ago, Lily’s greatest hope was to seduce Father Adam before he returned to Rome. But now… she’s to travel with him? Her thoughts inexplicably return to the crimson phallus hidden in a tote beneath her pillow. Perhaps something else is at work here.
Her rational mind guides her words. “I guess I have a lot to think about.” And she pulls gently free of Father Adam’s hands, if only to maintain appearances.
“What’s there to think about?” says Mother, her smile crystalizing.
“On Lily’s position, I agree. This is life changing. Lily will be nearing thirty by the time this commitment concludes, assuming she completes her degree. I think we should allow her to pray for clarity. God will reveal the truth to her, and it will be our duty not to influence the matter. The Holy Spirit moves us further when we know our own minds, isn’t that true, Mrs. Malvagio?”
Pursing her lips, obviously trying to banish traces of a scowl, Mother simply nods and presses her hands together that much tighter.
“Well then,” says Father Adam. His smile tilts slightly. “I wonder, would it be an imposition to use your facilities? I’m afraid I haven’t been feeling well.”
“Of course, Father! Of course.” Mother stands and motions through the dining room. “Lily, please show our guest the way.”
The downstairs bathroom is probably six feet beyond the dining room, if that. Lily can practically see it from the couch. But she stands anyway. She does not miss Father Adam’s eyes tracking the motion of her breasts, or the way those eyes glide down to her bum as she rotates. “Sure,” she says, and says nothing more when Father Adam takes her hand. He does not let it go as they progress through the dining room, and Lily’s heart begins to thump a measure harder.
“Through there,” she says.
He doesn’t release her hand. “Would you show me where the soap and towels are?”
Lily swallows. The soap is by the sink, where everyone puts it. So is a hand towel hanging just to the side. “S-sure.” They proceed a few additional feet and press into the first floor bathroom. The mosaic tile is cold beneath Lily’s feet. For reasons she tells herself are hospitable, she opens a drawer and removes a new bar of soap which she then opens and places atop the weathered one. She opens the cabinet below to pull a fresh towel still smelling of sunlight, taken in just this morning. “This should do…”
Father Adam is staring at her, the curve of his lips somewhat less than pious, suggestive even. “I’ve been watching you for a while, Lily. Did you know that? And I know I told your mother not to coerce you, but I can’t help myself. I do hope you’ll come.”
“I… it’s a lot to consider,” she says. She would have taken a step back, but the bathroom isn’t that large. She’d have ended up in the tub.
“I’ve enjoyed hearing about you while I’ve been here,” he says, leaning against the counter, making no sign of using the bathroom. “For such a quiet person, you do make an impact.”
“I’m not…” and then she smiles nervously. “I guess I am pretty introverted.”
“That’s a smile that could win hearts, change minds, change ways,” he says. “Charisma, you’ve got in spades. People trust you. People like you, that’s obvious. And what’s not to like? You’re not threatening, you have an intelligent face. And those eyes. My dear Jesus, why would you give a woman eyes so lovely?”
How is it possible he can’t hear her heart thundering in her chest?
He says, leaning in, “All you need is a little confidence. And that comes with experience.” Father Adam’s thigh is touching Lily’s now, his hand grazing her arm.
Her mouth is suddenly dry. “Experience?”
“Perspective!” he says. “See the world! Louisiana? Texas? Pfft. That’s not the world.” He pinches his fingers together. “Yes, you will come to Rome.” He leans in then, “And if you’re afraid, don’t be. I won’t let them send you anywhere you don’t want to go.”
“You can do that?”
“Well,” he grins and looks at his polished black shoes, crossing his legs at the shins. “If I’m being perfectly honest, I suppose I imagined you’d travel with me, that we would take the same assignment. And I do have more room to be selective than most of the others in this program.” He stands and places his hands upon her bare shoulders, his thumbs stroking her collarbones, the curve of her neck. “I’m just trying to reassure you. It will turn out alright. Okay? I simply must have you, and I’m willing to do what it takes to make that happen. Do you understand?”
“I… think so…”
His eyes fall to her breasts where she can feel that her nipples are firm and elongated beneath the fabric. “Why don’t you join me for dinner tonight at the Rectory? It won’t be anything fancy. Lemon pasta and a glass of wine. But we could… talk things over. Feel things out.”
All Lily can do is nod, and she becomes strangely self-conscious about the bounce of her ponytail.
“Great. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must use the facilities,” he says, looking at her expectantly.
“Oh!” she practically hops in place. “Right, okay.” Her body presses against him as she slides by. Is that…? Does Father Adam have an erection? Lily quickly closes the door behind her and places a hand over her mouth to stifle her breath.
The office across the hall from the bathroom belonged to Lily’s father, and though she wasn’t allowed to spend time in the office, she was often sent to the long closet to retrieve some item or another. Lily doesn’t exactly remember when she discovered light beaming into the darkness. It might have been from structural settling or perhaps a rodent, but there was a place in the back of the closet that would allow a viewer to see into the bathroom at about the location of the toilet.
Quickly, Lily darts into her father’s office and shuffles a crate of files out of the way to reach the closet. She slips inside, lights out, and in moments, she is on her knees and staring through the hole. Wet almost immediately, the lips of her pussy slip against one another as she shuffles her legs.
In the bathroom, she can see Father Adam, sitting on the toilet, pants around his ankles. But he is not relieving himself, at least not in the way anyone expected.
A line of spit strings from his mouth to the head of his massive erection, and he spits again to clear it, rolling his hand over his engorged mushroom. Lily wonders if priests have to go to confession after they masturbate and to whom they might confess. The thought flitters away as Lily lifts her dress and spreads her legs.
She peers through the tiny hole, her hips bucking in response, moving unbidden in time with the young priest’s long strokes. Once more he tilts his head forward to allow mucus-heavy saliva to drip slowly onto the tip of his rod before his hand smears it around.
Sweet dark god, he’s beautiful. The roll of his abs, the thickness of his cut legs. The girth of his veined cock… so different now that it’s fully engorged, ready for his pleasure. And Lily’s secret delight.
Her clitoris and labia still a bit sensitive from her masturbation only fifteen minutes earlier, Lily plays with the fluid oozing from her opening, watching Father Adam’s fingers gliding down his shaft, wondering what his fingers would feel like touching her the way she touched herself. Delicately, she uses two fingers to spread her substantial inner lips, careful not to disturb her thin hymen, and she slips a single finger up inside her silky folds. Yes. Oh, God yes, to be filled by that cock, to finally feel her hole stretched. Her clit throbs against her palm.
And then the priest reaches toward the tub, grabbing a bottle of Mother’s expensive conditioner. Into his hand, he squirts a sizable amount, far more than Lily has ever been allowed to use, and Father Adam smears it over his shaved ballsack. Scooting forward on the seat, and leaning back, he forces the viscous cream into his hairless ass crack, across his taint, and down into his… his…
With a delicious rush at her naughtiness, Lily quietly spits into her hand, and she reaches down to finger her own pucker. She circles her sensitive, wrinkled flesh as Father Adam does. And when he presses a finger into himself, Lily does the same. She can just make out the mucky sound of all that cream as he shoves a second finger into his asshole and begins to rub what Lily imagines is his prostate. His eyes close, and his beautiful mouth hangs open.
“Yes,” he whispers. “Lily. Oh, Lily like that. Use your tongue like that.”
Electricity fires across Lily’s entire sex like a lightning strike. Jesus! He’s masturbating to her. Father Adam is imagining Lily rimming his ass while he pumps his cock. And pump he does, faster now, with a full grip.
Lily’s finger rims her own asshole, a sensation that hadn’t even been sexual before this morning with Estlyn, and now the dirty pleasure of it, the filth of her finger against her foulest place adding to that immaculate ecstasy building inside her rocking pelvis. Her fingers dance forcefully over her clit. Oh fuck. She can feel herself getting close. Quickly she spits on her hand and smears the wetness against her anus. Two fingers push firmly upward until she can feel the discomfort. She tries finger-fucking her asshole, imagining its Father Adam’s cock in her pussy. Yes, to be fucked! Oh yes. Fuck yes!
Lily’s hips rock faster and faster as Father Adam’s strokes fly urgently over his shaft and his purple head. She watches him furiously, almost violently, tug at his asshole, and she delicately follows pace, fingers gripped spasmodically by her firm sphincter. “Lily,” he whispers. “Lily. Lily.”
And with those words, Lily feels her orgasm take hold, her pucker clamping down on her fingers, the pressure shooting outward from her clit as she sucks air through tiny gasps. Gurgling sounds as squirting wetness fills her palm and drips onto the closet carpet. In the bathroom, Father Adam rubs his head madly and thrusts as a gout of semen arcs from his bulbous thunderhead, dropping to the tiled floor with a splat. He massages the inside of his anus as he continues stroking. The milky white spunk now flows down his hand and over his knuckles. His pumping slows. Inside the closet, Lily’s quaking begins to recede as well, the violence of it lessening as she pulls her fingers from her asshole. Quickly she smells them and notes only the slightest odor, though she is not brave enough to put those fingers in her mouth. Instead she wipes them on the carpet.
Suddenly aware that her neck is stiffening while maintaining this angle, Lily doesn’t dare move for fear she will miss even a moment. Through the hole, she can see Father Adam’s cock wilting, bending slowly. Soon, the head droops into the toilet opening, and he exhales heavily.
The sound of peeing comes next, the jet firing into the toilet water with strength backed by a man’s large bladder.
Lily finds her pussy tingling, this new fetish she can’t seem to shake. Her splayed fingers rub either side of her clit’s pink hood, careful not to disturb her sensitive nub. And inside, the pressure has built. Not much, but enough to join the object of her lust.
What would it feel like if he pissed on her clit? What would it feel like to straddle him right now, right there in the bathroom and let her piss flow down onto his cock. How forbidden now, here in this closet, the floor wet with what can only be female ejaculate, now joined with her yellow liquor. She must have overstimulated her urethra while masturbating, because the burn is uncomfortable, catching her by surprise. The feeling diminishes quickly as she enjoys the feeling of her piss splatting onto the wet carpet, her fingers dragging some of the wet warmth up to her clit, as she watches from the darkness while Father Adam relieves himself in the toilet. Her stream peters out too quickly, though the man’s stream continues, and Lily simply diddles her vulva, touching here and there, fingers combing her coarse bush until he’s done.
She doesn’t stay to watch him clean up his mess. Mother must be wondering where she is by now. Lily wonders if Daddy is going to notice the smell from his closet and what he’s going to do about that? Chances are, Lily will already be on her way to Italy by then. Daddy rarely goes in there anymore.
But there is still tonight. Though the priest shares the weakness of all men, certain as she is now that he’s attracted to her, she can’t be entirely certain that he’ll fuck her. Lily has to be committed, confident. She thinks to the crimson phallus under her pillow and prays that she is not alone. The scintillating, tingling warmth that fills her in response puts a smile on her face.
THE END OF CHAPTER TWO