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The Priest

By: moonshadows



Tugging at my skirt, wishing I had worn the longer one. Damn wind! I had to pick today to try and make myself feel sexy and alluring.......ha! Cold winds blowing straight up my skirt to my crotch was doing nothing to help my mood.

Something is wrong with me. I am bored, restless and lonely. What mother and married woman tries to attract men while shopping? Me, I guess. 

I see the old Catholic church on my right that I pass weekly......it has been so long since I have gone to church, let alone confession. I laugh to myself, thinking of how long I would be there confessing my numerous sins.

Pausing I rest my hand on the cold cement of the steps. Thinking what a way to spend the rest of the afternoon. Quiet, warm contemplation of why my life sucks! 

I climb the stairs, wishing I had indeed worn the longer more appropriate skirt. Pulling the door open I quietly slid inside. Running my hands through my hair, I dip my finger into the holy water crossing myself I take the last pew.

Sighing I look around, well at least it is warm and quiet. I notice on my right the confessionals. I have never had the benefit of anonymity, my mother always made me go face to face. Thinking that would somehow make me confess more. 

Taking my coat off I cover my purse with it. My heart is beating wildly. I slowly walk over to the confessional, I open the door quickly, sit down and close the door.

Trying to catch my breath, I feel like I have run a marathon. I am thinking maybe I have come at the wrong time, when a disembodied voice says,

"yes, my child?"

It comes back easily, "forgive me Father for I have sinned, it has been many years since my last confession."

I made sure to emphasize the words years. 

"How have you sinned?" Now I am stumped, kicking myself I try to come up with a quick response. 

"Uh, I, Uh, I have fantasies of others that arent my husband" My heart is still beating rapidly and my palms become damp.

"What are those fantasies?"

"Sex with other men...." clamping my hand over my mouth, shit I didnt mean to say that.

"Why do you suppose you have those types of fantasies?"

"I, uh suppose because I want...uh I dont know" 

"Maybe it is because you are unsatisfied in your intimate life?"

"Maybe" I answer frowning

"Tell me of these fantasies"

"Father, uh, I dont think...." I begin to say

"Tell me" he said in a very husky, comanding tone. I am struck mute, I cannot believe I am suppose to tell a priest my wildest fantasy. 

I try to think of a generic one, so that I can escape this confining space. 

" Uh, I am in a bar and a man comes up behind me and begins to fu.... I mean have sex with me."

"Say the other word you were going to say"

"Fu...ck" I falter

"Now tell me the whole fantasy"

I begin to tell him.....

My back is turned to him, watching the people around me. I feel a slight presence, the hairs on the back of my neck stir... I feel a light line being traced down my spine, holding my breath I am scared to move. Then I feel a brush of his hand on my ass...I suck my breath in feeling a familiar tingle begin between my legs. He bumps against me, I can feel his hardness against my ass...fantasies are running thru my head, of him sliding my skirt slowly up...running his fingers between my ass cheeks till he finds my wet pussy, sliding in one finger, then two. All these people around and no one is noticing my skirt is up around my hips...then suddenly my skirt is being raised as if he is reading my dirty mind. He gently kneads my ass as if preparing me for what is to come...his fingers then dip lower and ease one finger into my already dripping pussy, as I let out a shuddering sigh, I lean back against him and spread my legs as far as I can without anyone noticing, to give him better access.

I pause....I can hear a rustle of fabric and I could have sworn I just heard a gasp from his side of the confessional. I realize in the telling of it I have grown wet and excited. I have got to get out of here. 

Just as I reach for the handle to escape, it flies open and a man steps into the darkness. I scramble to stand, a hand grabs me by the arms and pulls me towards him.

All that is said, was a quiet "Shhhh" by him. He pulls me close, touching my hair, fingering it, smelling its fragrance. His fingers touch my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

I tilt my head, he replaces his fingers with his mouth. He flicks his tongue out, as if tasting my flesh. My mouth opens, he covers it with his hand in time to silence the gasp. 

I let his hand travel to my breast. The instant he touches it, my nipple hardens. Rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, I tremble and arch my back, wanting him to touch me, fondle me, violate me.

He moans into my neck as his hand continues on its fiery path. From my breast, to my ass, and then around to the front. My legs open almost under their own free will, allowing him access to my most intimate place.

I know he will find me wet, and willing. He slowly rubs me through my satin panties. They are so wet it is almost like there is nothing there.

I hold my breath waiting, silently pleading with him to touch me. He slips a finger into the elastic band of the panties, to find me soaking wet. I hear his sharp intake of breath as if he is surprised to find me so ready.

He fingers me......teasing me. I rotate my hips in hopes that he will find my hard clit. Mmmm yes he finds it, lightly he strokes it, small tight circles, driving me to the brink. Leaving my clit he lets his fingers slide down, inserting one, then two, into my wet pussy,then he whispers...

"How many can you take?" I mutter incoherantly as he slides in another. I groan and my hips buck towards his fingers in response. I am on the verge of losing my mind to the ecstasy, when I here a zipper. 

He takes my hand and presses to his crotch, my god the bulge is huge, I reach in to free it. As if blind, I see it with my hand. Feeling the soft flesh, feeling its heat. I am shocked to feel my fingers do not even meet to incircle it.

I rub the head of his cock, feeling the precious drops of pre-cum, I bring my fingers to my mouth to taste. He rumbles a groan and pulls me towards him and turns.

He sits down on the seat. Pushing my skirt up around my hips. In the struggle to rid me of my panties, they rip, he rips them the rest of the way and throws them to the side.

He urges me forward with his hands, I spread my legs and straddle his hips. My pussy is only inches away from his hard throbbing cock. Then slowly he guides me downward. The head of his cock pulsing against my flesh. I can feel its girth in the head alone. Gently inch, by inch, I take him into me.

Grasping my hips he pulls me down, taking my breath away. I feel like I have been impaled. We sit joined together flesh against flesh. Cupping my breast he pulls it towards his face. Lightly running his tongue across the nipple, making it harden. I arch my back pushing it deeper into his mouth. I raise myself and slowly begin to move. I can feel him moan through my breast. His pleasure spurs me on to raise alittle higher and faster.

His hand runs between our bodies and finds my clit, pressing on it sending chills shooting through my body. I can feel myself on the edge, I move faster, my breathing becoming ragged. I have no knowledge of where I am at, only the feeling of what is coming.

He grabs my hips, pushing himself deeper into my pussy. My nails digging into his shoulders, he whispers,

"Are you cumming?"

The only word I can utter is "Yesssss" I feel it coming, wave after wave crashing through my body. Throwing my head back, I bite my lip to keep from crying out. 

I feel his body tense and one last deep thrust pushes him over the edge. Burying his face in my breasts he groans aloud. He is still fucking me, letting my pussy milk every ounce of cum out of his throbbing cock.

It all slows, coming to rest on the base of his cock, I can feel his cum trickle out of me.

He pulls me off his cock and stands. My legs trembling I hear him zip his pants. Quietly before I realize it he has opened the door and stepped out shutting it behind him. Leaving me alone and in silence, I clean myself the best I can. Pulling down my skirt, running my fingers through my hair I take a deep breath.

I open the door and step out trying not to look guilty. I look around seeing two men and three women, somehow searching for the man of my encounter. None of them look like they are the one. I walk unsteadily to the doors, looking back I see a good-looking man off to the side talking to an old woman. My heart races....I know that that is him. To my horror he is wearing a priests' collar. I stare realizing it isnt him. He turns to look at me and and smiles knowingly and winks. I turn and walk out of the church, thinking I just might come back again.

The Priest



The phone rang while she was at home alone. Her parents were still at work, so she skipped to it and answered the phone herself. "Hello?"

"Hi, Katie, this is Father Andrews from church." The girl recognized the voice of her priest from St. Frederick's.

"Hello, Father, how may I help you today?"

"Well, Katie, I heard that you will be turning eighteen soon." The priest explained in his usual friendly voice. "Everytime a young woman turns eighteen in our parish, I usually have a meeting with her, you know, as a counselor."

He continued, "I know your birthday is this Friday, and I'd like you to come in to the church on Saturday night, around 8pm, okay?"

Katie smiled and replied, "Sure, I can do that. I'll see you then." Today was Monday. When her parents got home, she told them about her plans, and they approved.

Saturday rolled around. Katie had a party with all of her friends last night, and she got up late, around 2pm. Her parents let her sit around most of the day watching TV; after all, it was her birthday. They had dinner: spaghetti and meatballs, Katie's favorite. After she cleared her plate, she started to get ready for her meeting with Father Andrews. She showered, and put on some of her favorite perfume. Then she picked out a conservative set of lingerie, a matching white cotton bra and panties. Finally she slipped into one of her prettiest church dresses, a red calf-length dress that hid much yet teased with what was not hidden.

She borrowed her mom's car and drove to the church. Most of the lights were out, but Father Andrews was waiting by the door for her. He escorted Katie to the basement, in a private room with candles and a small bench. It was pretty, and it looked like a very sacred room.

"Katie, we must be completely honest with each other in this meeting, and to show that, I'd like you to begin by kneeling and confessing anything you feel you need to." She knelt slowly, but her elbows up on the bench, and the priest knelt beside her. She prayed the customary forgiveness prayer from memory, and the priest smiled at her. Katie had been to church so often that she knew the service from memory.

"Now I want you to be completely open; mentally, spiritually, and physically." The priest calmly told her. "So I want to you close your eyes, concentrate on God, and remove all of your clothes, so God can touch you with his spirit."

Katie was so hypnotized by his calm words and blinded by her need to feel the spirit that she began to unbutton her dress, and pull it up and over her head. She was able to reach behind her and unsnap her bra and pull it off her body, and then with a quick bend at the waist, her panties slid down to her ankles. She stepped from her shoes and panties at the same time. She stood naked before the cross that hung on the wall in front of her. 

Father Andrews, in his white robe, touched her on her hips, and guided the nude girl to the bench. She laid down on it, feeling its soft material on her backside. Looking up, she saw another cross on the ceiling, and she closed her eyes. The priest started to chant, in some language she didn't recognize. He could hear his voice as he circled her body.

Then Katie felt his hands on her face, and realized he was standing directly over her, with one leg on either side. He slowly rubbed her cheeks, and then moved down to her neck, then her shoulders. Half her was worried, thinking "What if her touches my privates?" But the other half was thinking "I will be touched by the spirit through Father Andrews."

Then his hands moved to her breasts, and he massaged them and ran his fingers of her nipples, which were starting to harden. She started to feel a little excited, and she thought, "that must be the spirit beginning to enter me!"

She felt the tingle spread through her body, centralizing in her pussy. She could feel his hands rubbing her breasts, and then sliding down her belly. The cool sensations on her ticklish stomach made her squirm.

"Katie," the priest whispered. Katie opened her eyes and looked at him. He told her, "You musn't move at all during this time. I shall have to restrain you now." She closed her eyes again and felt his hands strap her feet to the bench with leather straps, then her wrists to the other end.

Father Andrews started the procedure again, and once again Katie felt the spirit, stronger and stronger now. His hands her now sliding up and down her waist and hips, moving closer and closer together on her body. The restraints held her fast to the bench. She felt his hands get closer to her pubic area every second. Suddenly his fingers were on her labia, rubbing up and down. She gasped, and would have moved but the straps held.

A single finger moved past the lips and inside. The priest's chanting seemed louder, but Katie was no longer paying any attention to it.

The finger was inside for only a minute, but it seemed like longer, as it moved in and out slowly and gently. Then it was withdrawn, and replaced with what felt like a bigger, thicker finger. The spirit was increasing in intensity through her body. Then she felt two hands on her hips, while the big finger was still inside her pussy. She opened her eyes to see the priest, still chanting, pumping in and out of her with his big dick.

Now Katie wasn't a fool, and realized this had never been about a spiritual experience. But it felt so good, and her wet pussy needed his dick inside. She groaned and he pushed even deeper, until she was completely filled. Then he came, inside her, and the sensation put her over the edge and she came too. He laid down on top of her nailed body, and told her, "We'll need to work on this once a week, Katie. Do you think you can make that kind of commitment?"

She smiled. "I think we can work something out. I can't wait to feel the spirit in me again."



The Priest



My name is Sloane Kennedy McLean. I come from a strict Catholic family. We live in a small town near Mt. Hood. There wasn't much to do growing up and I didn't have much in the way of friends and so I was always tagging along after my brothers. We grew up spending most of our time hiking in the backwoods. 

My brother's and I were endowed with tempers and wits to match my father's. My father, although stern, wanted us to be able to be ourselves. We kids were always very well behaved in public, never stepped out of line. Because of this, my father allowed us to have free reign at home, and boy did we. 

I was the little sister, the only girl of seven children. Most of my brothers were all grown up and done with school. Finnegan Jr., the eldest, was twenty-eight. He was followed by Brennen, who was twenty-six and then, at twenty-five, Lennon. These three hated school and when my father told them there was plenty of money for them to go to college they refused. They asked dad for the money they would have received for school and started their own business. It wasn't a surprise when they opened an Irish pub. To my father's amazement they are doing very well. 

Sullivan, at twenty-three, attends the local community college and is majoring in criminal justice. Then there is Regan and Rhyan both at nineteen. No one in my family, except for me, ever knew which was which because the boys never told the truth. 

My father, Finnegan, and my mother, Tiegan, were born and raised in Ireland but moved us to the states when my brother Finn was a year old. My father works for the Roman Catholic Church. I was never quite sure how he got transferred to the States let alone Oregon state. 

The twins weren't too keen on school, a family trait, and were held back a year in junior high. Because of this we were in the same class but that didn't mean anything. We attended a Catholic school and genders were kept separate except for mass every day and so I rarely saw my brothers. There were times when we could socialize between classes but we were closely monitored by the nuns. 

"Sloane, you are making us late. Hurry up!"

"Sorry dad, I slept in." 

My father stopped his truck in front of the church and turned a smile on me. "Another day in the grind, hey kids?" My brothers laughed. 

"Yeah, living the American dream." My father and I had a close relationship, I was his only girl and it was no secret that I was his favorite. My brothers didn't care; they always said they felt the same towards me. Mom and I were the jewels of the family according to the boys; I looked like a smaller version of my mom. My brother's, except for Finn, were all dark like my father, with bright blue eyes. Finn was the exception; he and I shared my mother's emerald eyes and auburn hair. 

I slung my bag over my shoulder and merged with the steady flow of kids filtering into the church. I could hear my brothers ogling girls that went by. I inwardly laughed at their open vulgarity. 

Rhyan gave me a hug before he and Regan left to go sit in their usual pew with their friends. I went directly to the front and sat behind the nuns. I was considered the goody two shoes of the school. I found this odd considering the nuns hated me. Despite them I was the top student. My pew was usually left empty except for two other girls that were ostracized and Jess. Jess was the only person at Sacred Heart that I would bother spending time with. 

We had mass every day, alternating between before and after lessons. There was a buzz in the air because old Father Patrick was finally turning everything over to Father McKinnon. 

McKinnon was a younger priest from Ireland; he was around thirty years old. He had intimidating ice blue eyes that almost seemed gray at times. Well, I thought he was intimidating, anyway. That didn't stop him from entering my fantasies like all the other girls at school. I admit I wasn't as gushy about it as the other girls but I did harbor lustful thoughts for the priest. His dark features, blue eyes, and Irish accent must have seemed comforting to me considering my family. 

Father McKinnon always left me feeling a little uneasy though; my heart always started fluttering when I was near him. We have confession on Friday and I had to confess to Father McKinnon for the first time last week. I had only ever confessed to Father Patrick before and so I was fairly closed mouth. Because of this Father McKinnon requested that I confess every day after mass.

"Not to worry. It'll just be 'till you become comfortable confessing your sins to the Holy Father."

"I'm not confessing to the Holy Father, I'm confessing to you. Isn't it natural to be uncomfortable?" 

He shook his head. "I'm not asking for a debate, Miss MacLean."

Everyone stood and I was brought out of my head. When I finally stood, the procession was just passing and Father McKinnon's eyes locked on mine for a moment and then he smiled. 

Father McKinnon made his way to the altar and faced us. His eyes met mine and locked there instead of scanning past. "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

The crowd responded with the sign of the cross and collective "Amen". I failed to do either as my discomfort grew. 

"The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all."

Oh crap, he was doing a long mass. There was a cumulative sigh of premature boredom before everyone responded, "Blessed be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ." 

I simply said, "and also with you." 

Father McKinnon was still looking at me and I saw the corner of his mouth twitch again with amusement at my shortened response. I tuned out much of mass and was only brought back to the priest's words when I caught him staring at me again. 

"Oh, man, those eyes. He keeps looking this way. Do you think he's looking at me?" Jessica was staring at Father McKinnon with wide adoring eyes but she spoke to me.

"Sure, I guess." I wasn't committed with my response and Jess turned to look at me. 

"You've been weird lately, ever since Friday's confession."

I didn't say anything. I was weird because after confession Father McKinnon told me he wanted me to come after every mass to confess. This wasn't something normally done and I felt singled out. 

He was still staring. "Lord, we have sinned against you. Lord, have mercy." 

"Lord, have mercy." I recited with the group.

"Lord, show us your mercy and love."

We all responded, "Grant us your salvation."

"May almighty God have mercy on us, forgive us our sins, and bring us to everlasting life."

Again he looked at me and the "Amen" was lost on my lips. 

"God, he is so hot. I wish he wouldn't wear his robe thingy all the time, though. I saw Father Patrick wearing pants and a black shirt this Saturday at the store, why doesn't Father McKinnon?"

"The robe thingy is called a soutane, Jess, and I guess Father McKinnon is just old school."

"Must be because he's from Ireland. McKinnon looks hot in the soutane, though, so it's all good. I had a meeting with him last Thursday about an English paper I wrote. His accent gets even stronger when he talks to you one on one."

"I know." I don't know why I said that but Jess shot me a knowing look before turning back to stare at Father McKinnon. I started to recite the prayer with everyone. "Glory to God in the highest, and peace to his people on earth. Lord God, heavenly King, almighty God and Father, we worship you, we give you thanks, we praise you for..." I trailed off, totally uncommitted. 

The rest of mass was a blur. I barely paid attention to the readings. Father McKinnon spoke of growing our relationships with God and the usual stuff. Everyone got up and left after mass, everyone except for me. I waited for Father McKinnon to come back out. He was now out of the ceremonial robes and in his soutane. The church was quiet and his feet echoed through the cathedral hall. He motioned for me with his hand and I got up and walked over to him. 

"In or out, Miss MacLean?"

It was silly to be inside the confessional booth but I couldn't face him. He must have read the look in my eyes because he just opened the door to the booth and motioned for me to enter. 

Once inside I knelt and waited for him to enter and sit. Through the screen I could make out his figure, he was a tall man and he seemed to fill the booth entirely. I quickly made the sign of the cross, "Forgive me father for I have sinned. You know when I last confessed." 

I heard him chuckle lightly. "Yes, two days ago. Do you have anything to confess, Miss MacLean?" 

I really didn't have anything to be ashamed of so I paused to think. I took confession seriously and had never had a problem before. I wished Father Patrick were there instead. 

I rubbed the cross of my rosary absentmindedly but couldn't come up with anything to confess. "I'm sorry, Father."

"Take your time." He leaned forward and I could tell by the tilt of his head that he was looking back at me through the screen. I dropped my head. 

There were some things I would have told Father Patrick without hesitation and so I mustered up the courage and just started in. 

"I have been having lustful thoughts about someone I shouldn't. I yelled back at my mother yesterday out of frustration. I also told a lie to my father on Saturday to keep my brother out of trouble. Oh, and I was blatantly not paying attention in Mass today."

"We sometimes have too much on our minds but you must try to focus during Mass. You aren't usually like this and so it is easily forgiven. Try to rid your mind in prayer before Mass begins next time. Now, your brother, what he did, will it have repercussions?"

"I don't think so, Father. It was an innocent prank."

"You should be honest with your father. God wants us to respect our parents. By telling your father it gives him the chance to decide what action needs to be taken. It is his duty to teach his children. Will you tell your father whatever it is Regan employed Rhyan to do?"

"Yes, Father, I will as soon as I see him today -- But, how did you know the situation without me saying anything?"

"What else could have happened, Miss MacLean? Your brothers never act without the other." 

His voice was thick with humor and I couldn't help but laugh in response. "I guess it is obvious."

"Now, as for your mother, I bring up respect again. It is your duty to check your temper. I know it is hard sometimes, we all have bad days. You must pray for God to help you with patience." 

I had grown comfortable as he spoke. His speech had a hypnotizing cadence and what he said would have mimicked Father Patrick. However, he paused for a moment and I started to grow uncomfortable again. 

"Have you acted on these lustful thoughts, Sloane?"

The sound of my name on his lips made me swallow hard. He had never used my name before. "I -- I have committed an offence against chastity." I blushed when my voice cracked.

"You have committed this offence with someone?"

"N-no, Father, alone." 

There was another pause. "It is normal to have these urges but with the help of God we can try to refrain..." He hesitated. "Sloane," he was more casual as he spoke now, "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable and it isn't proper for me to speak so candidly to you. However, masturbation, I feel, is quite normal as long as you do not abuse such activity."

I only nodded, I couldn't speak. 

"Good. You are fine, do not worry about this."

I felt better after what he said even though it had been embarrassing. 

"I want you to recite your Act of Contrition out loud." 

"Out loud?"

"I have been making everyone lately. You would be surprised how many of your peers do not know how."

I didn't hesitate. "Lord, I am sorry to offend You. I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of Heaven and the pains of Hell. But most of all because I have offended You, Lord, who deserves all my love. With Your help I will sin no more, I will do penance, and avoid paths that put me in the way of sin. Amen."

"That was lovely. Now, I want you to pray to God for strength to avoid such occasions where you grow vexed and lash out or feel the need to fib." He left out the masturbation part and I couldn't help but smile. So the priest thought it was okay to masturbate? This was an odd twist. 

"For penance I want you to say the Lord's Prayer and Hail Mary each seven times before you leave the booth. I would also like you to give up three afternoons and help me in my office as an act of sacrifice. 

"What?"

"I could think of something else if..."

I shook my head and groaned. "No, Father, I will be there."

"God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."

I made the sign of the cross, "Amen." 

Father McKinnon got up and left but I stayed and finished my prayers. I normally would have been pissed but I found myself anticipating seeing Father McKinnon again. This was a strange turn of events. 

"Why do you have to stay after though, I don't get it?" Regan was scowling at me.

"It's an act of sacrifice. I'm sure you've been asked to make one for penance?"

"Yeah, but I never do it. Just don't go."

"Regan, just tell dad for me. I'll call when I need a ride."

"Fine, yeah, we'll come get you."

Rhyan grabbed me and gave me a squeeze then grabbed Regan's arm and pulled him away. Regan was the voice and Rhyan was the fist. The two couldn't ever be whole without the other. I loved them more than anything. 

I stood at Father McKinnon's office door. It was ajar and I could see him sitting at his desk. He was bent over writing something. He didn't see me but he knew I was there somehow. "Come in Miss MacLean and take a seat."

There was a chair at his desk opposite him. I entered and sat down. Without looking at me he dropped a stack of papers in front of me and then a red pen. "Grade these using your own judgment." 

The papers were essays from a class below me. He knew I would have no problem with these seeing as how I took all of his advanced classes. Before he started staring at me I really liked Father McKinnon, he was my favorite teachers out of Father Patrick and the nuns.

The rest of the time spent in Father McKinnon's presence passed without much happening except that I caught him looking at me every now and then. 

I had to give up two more afternoons with Father McKinnon as part of penance but I didn't mind. Afterwards I even offered to continue helping him. I had realized in the past couple days that Father McKinnon's extra time was completely taken up with school work. He greatly appreciated the help. 

Eventually I was very comfortable around him and he told me I didn't have to confess every day anymore. However, I continued to do it anyway. I even managed to get a couple of the other students involved in daily confessions. Father McKinnon was pleased with all the extracurricular activities I was doing and so he wrote a letter to the Archbishop of our diocese nominating me for a scholarship. 

Three Months Later:

I sat at Father McKinnon's desk, in his seat; he stood behind me putting books away, he had just finished putting a lesson plan together. "Sloane, have you ever thought of becoming a nun?"

I looked up and just gaped at him.

He turned and looked at me. "You are one of the most devout students I have ever come across. You are smart and ambitious. You could make it far in..."

"I could never be a nun," I cut him off.

"Why?"

"You want me to be frank or sugarcoat it?"

"I would prefer frankness." He was smiling.

"It is a man's world. I would never be able to rise as high as a man so what would be the point?" I could tell he wanted to argue with me so I went further. "I wouldn't be able to be me in that world. Besides I dislike nuns. I think they are unnecessarily harsh with their pupils, they take out their personal frustrations on us..." 

Now he cut me off. "I admit that they can be harsh disciplinarians but they do it to push their students. It is how they were taught. If you take the vows you can act to change the ways in which we teach."

"Father, I just couldn't do it!" I was fervent on this, I had my reasons.

"It was just a suggestion, Sloane, calm down." His eyes were laughing. "You couldn't be a nun, you are right."

"Why?"

"You are too passionate." His eyes roamed me now and I blushed. 

I had to admit that he was an attractive man and when he looked at me that way it forced me to look at him as that man. I didn't like it, I had always thought of priests as something above man. Father McKinnon was too handsome to be a priest, it was distracting. What mad it even worse was that I couldn't stop the wild fantasies I had about him. It was disturbing that my mind always went in that direction but I couldn't help it. I wasn't attracted to the guys my age; I hadn't really been attracted to anyone before Father McKinnon. My liking for him started gradually, I hadn't even noticed it existed until he started staring at me. 

"I am not too passionate."

"You are, you are a wonton little thing, I can tell." He was still staring at me, maybe more intently than before. 

My mouth dropped in shock. Had he really said that? "Father, you seem to want me to feel comfortable enough to talk to you about anything?" He nodded. "Can I ask you something, then?" 

"You can ask me anything."

"Why do you look at me the way you do sometimes?"

His mouth twitched as he thought what to say, he obviously hadn't expected me to ask that. "My body reacts to you. I try to hide it but I do a piss poor job, I know. I'll try harder in the future."

"You are a priest, you can't seriously think of me that way?" I couldn't stop my eyes from roaming his form. Why did he have to be so attractive? Was his voice naturally sexy? My imagination was going wild. 

He leaned down and looked me in the face, his hands resting on the chair's armrests "I am only a man, what do you want from me?" His voice had grown softer, silkier.

I felt a warmth pool in my loins at his words. I wish he weren't a priest. I tried to banish the thought but I would willingly give myself to him if he asked. What I really wanted from him would surly shock him. "I don't want anything from you," I lied.

"You are a smart girl, Sloane." He turned from me then and started to head out of his office. "We are done for the day, Miss MacLean."

I stared at his retreating form feeling a little foolish. I couldn't believe he actually admitted his attraction to me. But then, why shouldn't he be honest? He was a priest and would never act on such thoughts. 

I was too embarrassed to show up after school the next day. So, the day after that, it was no surprise when he stopped me after English class. 

"You didn't come to my office yesterday. Are you upset with what happened in my office?"

I shook my head. "No, Father, I figured distance would help."

He smiled and laughed. "Sloane, I will not betray your trust. I would never act on such bodily urges. However, if the idea makes you uncomfortable I understand you not wanting to continue the Teacher's Aid program."

"No! I am not uncomfortable I just... I don't know. I'll be there today, Father." I didn't want to go but at the same time I did want to go. It was a battle in my brain. I loved being around Father McKinnon, he was laid back and easy to talk to. It was nice to run my thoughts by someone who could give me unbiased advice. So, I would get over my crush and go.




The Priest



Mass that day was after school and I waited for everyone to leave before going to Father McKinnon's office. His door was cracked and I could see him fix a button that he must have missed on his soutane. I knocked and waited for his answer.

"Come in, Miss MacLean." 

I entered and threw my bag on the floor by the door. "I don't really have anything to confess today. I've been too busy lately to get into much trouble. I guess the saying about idle hands is true." I smiled when he laughed. 

"That's fine. I have a lot of short essay tests to be graded if you wouldn't mind."

"Sure thing," I walked over to his desk and sat down in his oversized leather chair. I wanted to sigh in relief at being able to just resume our routine. 

I pulled the papers out of his top drawer and flipped through them to make sure they were the tests he spoke of. I could tell just by the first few tests that the class hadn't done well. "Geesh, Father."

Father McKinnon looked up from the book he had sat down to go over for notes, and looked at me quizzically. "Hmm?"

"Your freshmen aren't getting the lessons." I held up the tests so he knew what I meant. 

His brows raised in thought. He stood and crossed the room in a couple long strides. I handed him the tests and he flipped through them as I had. He started shaking his head when he stopped on one. After a moment he laughed and pulled it out of the stack and handed it to me. "Read question three on that one."

3. What does the quote "Some people don't look up until they are flat on their backs," mean to you?" 

I laughed before I even read the answer. This ought to be good, I thought. 

Student's answer: This quote means some people can't look up because something has happened to their necks so they can't look up. For example, if a person gets kicked in the neck by a kung fu midget, they will not be able to look up.

I cringed at the redundancy but laughed at the explanation. "Wow, do they even stay awake in your class?"

Father McKinnon handed all the tests back to me. "Well, I guess I'll have to go over the lesson with them again." He shook his head and frowned. "I don't understand it. They have been doing fine 'til now. I haven't changed anything in my teaching methods."

"Don't worry, Father. It isn't you. They're being lazy."

"All of a sudden?"

"It's a week 'till our two week break. They've quit early on you."

The realization that I was right hit is face. "Rotten little brats!"

"Mhmm."

Two Years Later:

I was in my second year of Community College. In my spare time I still went to Sacred Heart to help Father McKinnon with whatever he needed; anything from Church related to School related matters. 

There had been moments when I would catch Father McKinnon leering at me and it reminded me that he desired me. Sometimes the look in his eye was enough to set my freakin' panties on fire! 

It was a normal day like any other. We were debating issues and having the usual conversations. However, we got on asking each other questions and I couldn't help what came out.

"Would you ever act on your desires, Father?" He didn't respond. "Aren't you worried about the thoughts they evoke?"

I sat on his sofa going over some of his notes and he finally looked up at me from his desk. "Sloane, why are you asking me these questions?"

Why was I? For the life of me I didn't know. All I could think about were the images that my mind was creating, lustful dirty thoughts. I kept asking myself for the last few moments if I had lost my mind. 

Oh my God. What was wrong with me? I was slowly making my mind up to seduce a priest. My heart started to race at the idea. I would surly go to hell. One time of such passion set me on fire and made my chest ache with desire. It would be worth it just to feel his strong arms around me once. 

I wasn't sure how long I just stared at him un-answering but he finally got up and shut the door. My heart started racing when he turned the lock and I stood up and turned to face him when he came back. "What are you doing?"

He didn't say anything, just stopped about five feet away and motioned for me with his finger. Without hesitation I walked over to him and stopped half an arms length away. 

"I want you to come here." There was no humor in his face now. He was hard and commanding as he opened his arms to me.

I'll never know how I managed what I did. I must have had nerves of steel that day. I calmly stepped into his arms. His left arm wrapped snug around my lower back and his right hand rested at the base of my neck. He pressed me up to him and lowered his head. I didn't have to do anything then, he kissed me. My arms slid up his chest and up around his neck. My mouth molded to his and I sighed. 

He pulled away and looked down at me with his intense eyes. "How long have you wanted this?"

I smiled and pulled his head back down to me. His mouth massaged and his tongue slipped out to taste my lips. I parted my mouth and he slipped his tongue in to caress mine. I melted into him then, he was supporting me fully. 

We were both breathless when I pulled away this time. "I think I've always wanted you." My mind cleared a little and reality hit me. "Father, we can't do this. I cannot allow you to give up..."

"This is my decision, Sloane. If I had had any idea that you wanted this I would have taken you long before now."

Take me? This was it, what I've been waiting for. I had turned down every guy the past couple years in the hopes that this would come to pass. "How can you be so willing to make this sacrifice? Have you ever done anything like this before?"

"No."

"You are a virgin?" He nodded. "Then why now? Why me?"

"I don't have an answer for that. I just know I want you." He pulled me closer to him and bent his head down to lay kisses to my neck. 

I pushed at him again but not hard enough to stop him from kissing me. I could have if I had truly wanted to. "Oh, Father..."

He brought his head up to look me in the eyes again. "My name is Neal." His lips were on mine again. He was grinding into me as his hands caressed up and down my body. 

When my lips were free I protested again. "We can't do this. You sacrifice too much for one time of lust."

"It is my sacrifice to make, and I never said it would be one time." He shoved my sweater down my shoulders and off to the floor. His hands were quick at the buttons of my blouse. 

That was it, I couldn't argue with him. I wanted it too bad to put up a phony fight. He was right, I was wanton. I wanted him like nothing I've ever wanted before. 

He had my blouse open and he just stared down at my bra clad breasts. His eyes were a dark blue and they sparked with desire. I slid the blouse down my arms and reached behind me to unclasp my bra. It shocked me how comfortable I was with him. I was normally very insecure about my body. It was something in the way he looked at me, like I was a rare piece of art. He made me feel beautiful and sexy. 

I slowly lowered my bra and watched his face as my breasts sprung free. Before I even dropped my bra he was bent suckling my already hard nipples. At the first contact I felt a flood of warmth spread through my body. Oh God, it felt so good! 

I could have let him caress, lick, and nibble my breasts all day but I wanted to see him naked. I pulled him back up to me and kissed him while I unbuttoning the buttons of his soutane. It was an awkward garment and he replaced my hands with his and began undressing himself. I leaned back on the desk and watched as he removed the layers of fabric. His bare chest was surprisingly tanned like his hands and face and lightly furred with dark hair. My fingers itched to run my hands over his muscles, he was very fit. My eyes dropped downward when he began to remove the rest of his clothes.

When he was fully naked we just stared at each other for a moment, each taking in the beautiful sight. Neither of us had ever been with another and neither of us would ever forget this. 

We gravitated towards each other and he enveloped me in his arms. The feel of his warm skin pressing against my body sent pleasure waves from where we touched. He slid his hands up and down my body and then grabbed me fully by the bottom. He pressed me up to him until I realized he wanted me to wrap my legs around him. When I did, he walked us back to his sofa and gently laid me down. 

I eagerly opened my legs for him to settle down on top of me. I loved the weight of him on me, pressing me into the sofa. His lips were on mine, fierce and hungry. I lifted my hips up to his, I wanted him now. "Father, now!"

"Please, Sloane, call me Neal." He was looking me in the face. "Say it."

"Neal." I watched a slow smile spread across his face. Then I reached between us and grabbed him. He was hard and long. I massaged him and watched the smile fade and his eyes glaze over with pleasure. 

"Neal, I want you now." My words were a whisper in his ear and I lingered there to leave a couple love nibbles. He grew more rigid with every stroke of my hand and then he finally pulled away. He took himself in hand and rubbed up and down my moistened lips. 

"All at once! Just do it, Neal!" He slid into me in one quick motion. It stung and I squeaked in surprise. 

"Are you alright?" He was looking at me with alarm. 

"Oh yes," I bucked my hips up to his to back up my answer.

He was moving then, his hips slamming into mine. I threw my head back and let out a moan. He took my head in his hands and kissed me, his tongue playing with mine. He trailed kisses down my throat and collar bone. "Oh, Sloane!"

My legs were around him and my hands were pressing firmly into his butt. "Faster Neal!" He quickened his pace and pushed harder into me. Both of us were panting and clinging violently to one another. Our climaxes came together, yelling out in unison. 

We lay there for a while in each others arms. He had turned us so that I was on top of him. An hour must have gone by before he started caressing my body and kissing me. He had me sit up on him and I rode him until he came, I was so lucky to receive two orgasms. I collapsed on top of him and fell asleep to the feel of Neal's hands caressing down the length of me and back up. 

I thought our departure would be awkward but it was sweet. He helped me to dress and kissed me long and hard before I shut the door. 

After that day I never went back to see Father McKinnon. We both agreed that the temptation would be too great. Although I would always desire him I knew this was for the best. I couldn't take the Church away from him, he loved it too much. 

I never wanted to seduce a priest but I would do it again given the chance, especially because of the gift I received from it. My son is now seven and is constantly asking about his father. I suppose I'll figure out what to tell him, someday.



The Priest



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 Priest and the Cinner



"Do you have anything to share with the group today, Cinnamon? You did very well last week."

I see you smile encouragingly at me. I have been famous for being difficult. This is our eighth meeting and I spoke for the first time last week. Then, I told everyone that my name was Cinner, short for Cinnamon, and that I was very angry. I didn't give the details that everyone was undoubtedly hoping for, but nevertheless, everyone applauded. That made me even angrier. Patronising people always do.

I think about declining the invitation to share again this week, but three things work against me: my suddenly remembered disdain for this group, my love of talking about myself and the need to shock you from your complacent little life. I smile graciously, take a sip of water, and begin, anticipating your shock when I complete the spinning of my story. 

"First of all, I should tell you, from the outset, that my priest and I did NOT have sex; so if that is what you're hoping for here then you'd be wasting your time listening to me any further," I watch you straighten up slightly and glance at me nervously. Our eyes meet briefly before you glance at the other members of our circle, gauging their response to my dramatic opening statement. I continue before you can say anything.

"I've told you that I am aware of my rage. You have seen only one aspect of my personality during these past weeks but believe me there is another; a much darker manifestation of who I am. It was when this could no longer be ignored that my caseworker checked me into therapy. For about 18 months I think, between August 2010 and February of this year, I was seeing both a psychiatrist and a psychologist in order to deal with my rage. I decided to do this when I found myself picking fights with my parents and my friends, my neighbours, the shop assistants, a policeman who tried to ask for my car's papers..." 

I pause at the memory of that particular incident, wondering at myself. How could I have become so self-destructive?

"And, I was picking on just about everybody really! In any event, I was told that I had to get into counselling or end up in jail. So I chose someone with whom I had never worked before. I don't think that I really had a choice. I think that no one wanted to work with me and so it was difficult to get an appointment to see anyone. My case was in the papers four years ago and so I am very well known in the industry you see. They've all failed to help me at one point or another, so I decided to try someone new, and met with Dr. I. for the first time one Tuesday afternoon. My first impressions of him were that he was both very good-looking and very friendly."

I hear an inane giggling from the two girls nearest me on the left. I see them nudge each other and cuddle closer together, giving fodder to the lesbian fantasies of the men in the group.

"Gawd, Dr. Pearson! If I didn't know better I'd think she was talking about you!" the doll-like little bleached blond called Faith gushes, telling everyone in the process that she thinks you, our session leader, to be both good-looking and very friendly. 

Black men don't blush, but I see you come close. I watch you squirm in your chair and think about shutting me up, but not everyone here is as dumb as Faith, and if you try to stop me now it will raise unhealthy suspicion.

"This is strange because, unknown to me, he had a reputation for being a very cold fish," I continue, rapidly. 

I watch the eyebrows of a huge bear of a man seated next to you, rise questioningly. He glances briefly at me, but looks away embarrassed in your direction. I wonder how much longer it will take the others to draw conclusions of any kind.

"In fact, during the time that I was seeing him, several people asked me how I could stand him and all the time I wanted to jump this man's bones!"

I hear you cough violently and I want to laugh out loud. I control myself though and turn huge, innocent eyes on you. I see the entire circle of participants turn toward you as well, and stare. The big bearded man next to you thumps your back hard; sympathetically, helping you to breathe again. 

You begin to croak something that doesn't quite come out. Somehow though, we all know that you are going to try to bring my contribution to today's session to an end. Smut titillates though and after my opening which is still ringing in everyone's ears, no one, but you, wants me to stop now. Quite a few people protest and insist that I continue. It has been eight weeks of near silence and already in seven minutes I have more than multiplied my contribution to the group ten-fold.

"Anyway, I did what I usually do in such counselling situations,' I continue. "I began a verbal and mental chess match, with my counsellor being cast in the role as my opponent. That this man took me on in this, and played this game with me for 18 months, has made him one of my favourite people in this life."

I watch you relax slightly. My contribution does not sound so bad, and but for Faith's comment few people would even think to add two and two.

"As you must all know by now, I have mixed feelings about the desirability of sex in my life. It may disappoint you to know that I don't particularly enjoy the physical act itself."

Several people look disbelieving at my statement. I can't blame them really. I'm wearing a blue-and-white floral baby-doll dress from which my boobs are threatening to pop out at any minute and strappy white sandals that show off my pretty, manicured feet. 

"It took 18 months for us to blame the rape and the fact that I gelded the man and got away with it after I was declared competent enough to stand trial; but at the time, I thought that I had got over that, and, to be fair to him, he didn't know about it at all since it was not in my file! So what happened was that I began seeing him and we chatted about a lot of things: my family, my sex life and my plans for the future being the main topics. I noticed that he seemed to be most interested in my family and in my sex life. I noticed that he seemed to be VERY interested in my sex life and that he did what I tend to do... displace it to the most unavailable group of people possible. What I mean by that is that I like to watch and think about gay men at play and he seemed to have a lesbian fantasy. For me that was where my first spark of genuine interest developed. The fact that this man fantasized about lesbian women made him pretty cool as far as I was concerned. The fact that he gave me permission to be one from our very first meeting was interesting. I also remember liking him the first day that he admitted that he was a cad! I like that in men! Honesty! Say exactly what they're about. It's rare though. I play a little sax and piano with a little jazz band on Sundays, and he admitted to doing piano lessons in order to impress a woman. I thought that that was really sweet. It took me some time to see it for what it really was, a subtle power shift in our dynamic that neither of us understood at the time, but it opened the way for the flirting that we started doing. I'd tease him about that incident and he'd use double entendre and innuendo with me. Our talks began to revolve solely around my sex life and my sexual fantasies and he began to make suggestions about how I could make these fantasies come true."

No one makes a sound as I pause for breath and to sip some water from my bottle. I see almost everyone leaning forward, some considerably more than slightly, so I know that I have everyone hooked. I glance at you and notice an awful plea in your eyes and an almost imperceptible shaking of your head. I like to watch you beg. You're so beautiful when you do. You give me so much power. I ignore you and begin my tale again.

"I remember that one afternoon we were talking and a woman walked by the window. Dr. I. commented about her butt. He thought that she was lovely. I offered to go tell her what he'd said and bring her in to meet him right then and there during my session. We both knew that I was serious - that was the extent to which our relationship had become outrageous. He declined my invitation and told me that he was very happy with the person with whom he was with at the moment - and it was the way that he looked at me when he said that that took my breath away. The truth is that in that moment I became genuinely interested in him as a man and, despite the fact that I have my own boyfriend, and I will have a chance to be with him when he comes out of prison in six months, I became jealous of the women in his life and began to speculate about whom they might be." 

You try to take control of the situation by distracting me from my mission to self-destruct and take as many people as possible with me. You are not that good a chess player though.

"Why is your boyfriend in prison?" you ask, innocently. "You don't seem like the sort of girl who would be caught up with a man who commits crimes."

"My boyfriend is Lincoln Freemont," I say with finality. 

For anyone who watches the local news that should have been enough of an explanation. Your life, however, seems to be even more sheltered than I can imagine possible.

"Who is Lincoln Freemont?" you ask naively; just as someone asked me if he was THE Lincoln Freemont.

The disbelieving gasps in the room alert you to the fact that you've lost even more ground to me than you realise during this session. Everyone, except you, is looking at me either admiringly or doubtfully.

"Okay, okay!" you back-pedal, clumsily. "Obviously I need to get out more!" you chuckle disparagingly at yourself. You look at me questioningly, wondering for the first time perhaps, who I really am as a person. On reflection I resent that.

"The thing though is that I'm really not about interfering in people's marriages and so I stamped down on my feelings for Dr I. I continued to see him but I put up the wall again as if we'd just met. He commented about this and it caused him to open up to me more about his own family life. I could see that it was a technique to regain my trust. I made him work hard with that without any success for weeks! I even tried to force him back into the realm of therapist-client relationship -- interpret that to mean, nothing's going to happen between us man so stop talking about yourself, you're not impressing me! And ironically it was then that I realised that I needed to be very careful with him; I was already impressed. That was when I looked him up on Google to see if I could find him, and I discovered that he was a Roman Catholic priest!"

"How many of you are there, Dr. Pearson?" Inez asked, delightedly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"How many priests come counsellors are there?" she asked.

"I don't know. There must be hundreds, I'm sure." 

"Living in Jamaica?" she asked doubtfully.

"Well, there are eight at this facility alone," you explain hoping that she'll drop the subject. "And there are several more who work in the various parishes. Even my brother was once a practicing psychiatrist, but he's been promoted and so now does more administrative work in our Order. I think he sees one or two persons just to keep his hand in. He's exceptionally good at what he does. So yes, to answer your question, there are quite a few of us who work in Jamaica. Maybe not hundreds, but still a lot."

You turn to me and frown slightly.

"Do you have anything more to say, Cinnamon?" you say making it clear to me that it would be best if I did not. "We need to get to someone else now."

"Of course," I smile sweetly at everyone. "I've got lots to say today. I'll just take a few minutes more. I actually have something important to tell you but I want to tell you the whole story first... Before learning these things about him, it was his sheer intelligence and irreverence that had attracted me but after those discoveries it was his incorruptibility and ultimate unattainability that impressed me along with the knowledge that I had unwittingly opened a valve for him to release some of his sexual frustration. After learning that he was a Priest our talks became more about God and sex than about my family and sex. I didn't mind sharing my fantasies with him because I thought that I was helping him. I felt that if he needed something to go home with at night, that I didn't mind helping him out there and I'll admit, I'd much rather have him think about me than about anyone else. I let him know that I had no intention of corrupting him and he seemed to like to challenge me to see if that were true. He would sit close to me, if he sat across the room from me, it was with an open sprawl; and he became very aggressive about discussing my sexuality and in discussing Lincoln and his life. Some weeks, just to tease him, I would be the one holding back on that and reminding him that I came to him with an anger problem and he would ignore me and talk about sex. He seemed to like the fact that I was a sexual submissive more than anything else but he also liked the fact that I liked violent men and he loved my breastfeeding fetish and talking about my breasts. As I've said, he made several recommendations about how I could move these from the realm of fantasy into reality."

The man next to you adjusts himself surreptitiously and smiles secretly. I think I heard somewhere that he caned his wife Helen and her boyfriend Troy and it was only because of his connections that he didn't go to prison. I can't be sure though. Rumours have a way of not being quite true. I must get to know him better. He looks interesting. I look straight into his eyes and he smiles more openly. He glances at my breasts and licks his lips. I smile naughtily when I feel my nipples harden. I see you glance at my breasts too, but you look away guiltily. You don't dare move your hand toward your crotch so you just sit like a statue. Are you hoping that everyone keeps looking at me? 

"We reached the stage where he defined his personal space very carefully because I noticed that whenever I came into the room and when I was leaving, he would step away from me physically and we would always have a space between us so that our bodies would never touch. He offered me help with finding a man who could satisfy me sexually, he couldn't stop talking about the fact that my boyfriend, Lincoln, wasn't good enough for me and he tried to meet him and to get me to leave him." 

A few people protest vociferously at the thought that someone could have tried to get me to leave Lincoln Freemont. The man seated next to you frowns, disapprovingly. Faith shakes her head at the stupidity of my nameless advisor.

"He must not have known who he was!" someone says, awed.

"But she said they discussed him! So he must have known," someone else argues.

"Idiot!" somebody else exclaims and there is general assent before anyone remembers that you had already confessed to not knowing who he is either.

There is an embarrassed silence for a minute or so before someone urges me to go on with my story. I have no problem obliging.

"I remember one day I told him that I had decided to marry Lincoln and he objected in the strongest possible terms. It was a spontaneous outburst and shocked us both. I don't think that he realised that he felt this way. We laughed about it when he calmed down but it was out there. Worst of all, one day he confessed to me that having me as a client was beginning to challenge his professional ethics and that when a younger colleague had asked him for advice a few days before he found that he couldn't give it to her because he would be guilty of some of the things that he would have been warning her against. Of course, I found a rational justification for everything that we were doing and gave my arguments to him. He humoured me by agreeing that I was right. For my part, I found myself dressing up for him, going to the hairdresser when I knew that I had a session with him, rehearsing what I planned to tell him that day so that he would find me interesting, giving him gifts, talking about him all the time with my friends, going out socially to places where I knew I'd run into him, going to Mass to see him! Note, I am not Roman Catholic; befriending his friends and calling and e-mailing him at work and home!"

I see you hang your head. You do not seem to know where to look. You do not seem to know how to stop me from destroying the programme that you and your colleagues have spent years building. If I out a priest here sexually it would be big news! Who will trust any of you ever again? These things just do not happen in Jamaica. They are the stuff of the British tabloid news! 

I see you try to say something. I see you fail and try again. You still can't find the appropriate words. Poor baby!

"Of course you know that this couldn't last. One day we didn't pretend anymore. I went in and said hello. He said something back; I don't know what because I was watching his lips move. They looked so good to me and the next thing I knew was that I was pressed up against the wall and he was kissing me."

I see the man seated next to you cross his arms. He's becoming judgemental. Maybe what they say about him and his wife is true. Family and loyalty seem important to him. Too bad!

"I kissed him back and we ended up fucking like wild animals on the floor of his office. He had my breast out of my bra in a flash, and his mouth on my nipple a second later. He had his hand on my ass and he was lifting my dress up and peeling my panties to the side. It was great! He was exceptional! Exceptionally large too if you know what I mean! Obviously, I wasn't his first. He did me doggy style and reverse cowgirl and he gave it to me in my ass. Ironically, the only thing that he didn't want was missionary. I found that hilarious! His hands were everywhere. I suppose that all that waiting was worth it for me in the end."

Everyone gasps. I'm not sure what they had expected to hear. It was clear to me where this would end up.

"So you cheated on Lincoln?" Faith asks, worriedly.

Somehow, the fact that I'm telling these 12 people that I've been screwed by a priest who was supposed to be looking out for my emotional welfare doesn't matter as much as the fact that a jury of his peers found Lincoln Freemont guilty of a crime that no one believes he committed. Go figure. There's no justice anywhere, is there. I thought that these people were my peers. Oh, I see my miscalculation now. They really are my peers, and so they're judging me, the victim here.

"But I thought you said that you didn't have sex with the priest," a weedy little man named Sol reminds everyone after a moment's silence.

"Yes, you did say that!" some nameless woman agrees.

I see everyone turn back to stare at me again, waiting for an explanation. There isn't one.

"I lied," I say blandly. "I did have sex with him. I must have done, I'm carrying his child."

"Shit!" I hear you exclaim, angrily. "That's enough Cinnamon! You know you're lying! I have never touched you that way! We've only petted a little! These are very serious charges! You could ruin my life if you go around saying untrue things about me! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I smile. I know it's a mean one. I'm about to kill a second bird with the stone that you just threw at me.

"Oh, I'm telling the truth, Dr. Pearson. I wasn't talking about you at all."

I smile sweetly at the horror in your eyes. You've just realised that you've given yourself away. You put the final nail in your own coffin. You didn't need me for that. I have other fish to fry now.

"I just thought that you might want to know that you're going to be an uncle in five and a half months' time."



The Priest & the Nun



My friend Lori and I always talk about the strange and sadistic things that we would like to do to other people. It seems as though when we fantasize together we come out with strange and almost horrific stories. I would like to share with you two stories that we came up with one afternoon while we were watching pornographic movies and having a few drinks.

The first story we came up with entails us going to the beach in a very large van. Lori and I are very good looking so it take us no time to pick up a couple guys and lure them back to the van so we can have our way with them.  We have sex with the guys for a few hours and then the plot twist happens. Lori crawls up to the front of the van and pulls out a gun from the glove box and points it at the guys. 

They immediately freeze and we order them to suck each other’s cocks. After refusing for a few moments they comply with our orders and we watch in pure joy and laughter at them. Both of them make completely revolting faces as they get each other off. They try to stay soft, but it does not work. We make them continue until they have come all in each other’s mouths and we force them to swallow each other’s come. We are made very horny by all this and think of more way to play with our two new dolls.

We force them to fuck each other in the ass hard and fast. My boy actually starts moaning as he is being fucked by his friend and he spurts his come all over the floor of the van.

The other boy is ripped open by my boy and screams out in pain and we just laugh as my boy continues fucking him like crazy. My boy actually seems to enjoy this and it turns me on slightly seeing this. I love a man who is willing to give the pleasure and take it as well.

After hours of playing with them we clean them up and kick them out of the van. I was not very happy to see my boy go, but I had to let him. Perhaps his sexual life will be better because I did this to him.

Lori and I take off down the road and drive for hours taking turns on driving. We even stop a few times a get each other off with our dildos or fingers. Lori’s pussy tastes so sweet and I try to eat her out as often as possible. 

This is where the second story and the first story join together. 

We drive for hours and into another state and down this really long highway. It is there that we come across a Catholic church and go inside pretending to be a couple of girls who have came for confession. Lori then pulls the gun and we kidnap a priest and a nun and drag them out to the van and take off again.

After driving for hours we stop the van and watch the two of them, as they are scared and praying for mercy. We laugh like crazy and then strip both of them. Lori plays with the priests cock while I finger the nun’s pussy. 

The nun is very young and quite pretty so doing this does not bother me. Her pussy is so tight that it is hard for me to even place two fingers inside of her. As I finger her I watch Lori with the priest and laugh as I see him getting hard within the grasps of her hands.

She ties a cock ring around his cock to prevent him from going soft and then she pushes him in the direction of my sweet virgin nun. I watch in pure joy as I know what is going to happen.

Lori plunges the face of the priest into the nun’s pussy and orders him to eat her out. In fear for his life the priest complies and the nun soon comes all over his face. Lori has to play with the priests cock again because it has gone semi-soft and she wants to make sure that they both get the ultimate experience out of this. She also wants to make sure that mine and her appetites for the destruction of these two are satisfied for the moment.

After Lori has gotten the priest rock hard she guides him over to the nun and guides his cock into her pussy and begins rocking him back and forth making him fuck her. The nun is actually moaning. Lori makes the priest anal fuck the beautiful nun and then I make then nun suck the priests cock until he has came in her mouth. She is of course forced to swallow his seed.

Lori unties the cock ring and we push them out of the van on the side of the highway. 

Our adventures like this carry on for days and amazingly enough we are not caught or even hear anything on the news about it. Everyone we got hold of must have enjoyed what we did to them. Every once in a while we would go out and do this to unexpecting guys or other people just for giggles for ourselves. We can be pretty sadistic at times, but hey we’ve never acted on our little fantasies, just talked about them.



The Priest of the Goddess



I was where I was trained to be, between a beautiful woman’s spread legs, pleasuring her most sacred place. Caressing Lady Irene’s clean-shaven mound softly with my hands, I opened her outer lips to grant me access to her puffy, glistening inner sanctum. I wanted to taste her, but held back a little longer to prolong her pleasure by heightening her desire. With the cushions of two fingers I rubbed her clitoris and inserted my thumb into her holy entrance. I could feel the build-up of her delight emanating from deep within her being. 

The Lady was my fourth appointment for the morning and I had already come twice. I loved my calling as a priest in the Temple of Calypso and judging from the satisfied smiles of the female devotees, I was good at my job in pleasuring them.

I looked up from between her legs, over the horizon of her firm breasts and saw the rapture on her face. A soft moan escaped from between her clenched pure-white teeth and over her pink lips. She swayed her head from side to side in ecstasy and as I wriggled her engorged clit, she threw her blond head backwards and arced her back, lifting her bottom cheeks from the floor. I lowered my mouth to her dripping pussy and slowly licked and sucked on her sensitive clit. My tongue slipped between the pink folds of her puffy lips to sample her nectar. It tasted like sweet honey with a touch of lemon and I wanted more. I drank from her fountain, feeling life return to my penis. 

Lady Irene’s body was shaking as her climax swept through her. She kicked out her legs and flopped on her back, spent. I crawled over her prostate, shaking body and kissed her navel, the underside of her breasts and sucked on her protruding nipples. I slowly moved my hands over her body, caressed her breasts and rolled her nipples between my fingers. She pulled my face towards her mouth and licked her own juices from my lips. She pushed her tongue into my mouth, swirled it around and proceeded to suck on my tongue.

Lady Irene groped for my now erect penis to push it into her waiting valley of pleasure. But before I could insert my cock into her pussy Randith, the High Priestess walked into the chamber. Irene unceremoniously dumped me on the floor and quickly bowed before Randith.

“I hope I have not offended you, Your Holiness”, stammered Lady Irene with her naked ass in the air. I bowed respectfully as a temple priest is suppose to and saw the concern in Randith’s eyes but also the smile on her face when she saw my erect member. She quickly pumped it a few times and maneuvered Irene’s face to my penis.

“Suck him off, quickly. I have some business with him.”

“But, your holiness, I paid for the full devotion” came it from the beautiful Lady Irene before she nearly gagged on my dick.

“My dear Lady, I have ordered two of my other priests to take care of all your needs. But first you must finished the poor Zenoi off.” Randith, the High Priestess of the goddess Calypso is an ageless beauty with full breasts, large nipples and a clean-shaven cunt. Seeing her in her transparent holy frock was enough to sent my pleasure over the top, despite the amateurish efforts of Lady Irene. 

Randith bent down to help the poor woman. She kissed Irene on the cheek filled with my cock. Randith took my 9-inch cock from Irene’s mouth and licked and sucked on my dick’s purple head. She demonstrated to Lady Irene how to pleasure a man with her hands and mouth. Randith took my cock’s head in her mouth and swirled her tongue around it. She sucked on it and flicked her tongue over the small opening.

My pulsating member slipped into her mouth and the High Priestess swallowed my sword flesh deep. I could feel the head touching the back of her throat. She bobbed her head up and down on my cock without gagging. The impatient Randith then took Lady Irene’s hand to play with my balls. It was heaven to have two desirable women wanting to bring me to a climax. I couldn’t control my pleasure anymore and before I could come, Randith stuck my cock back into Irene’s mouth to receive my white cream. She swallowed it with joy and smiled like a blessed devotee of Calypso.

We left the poor Lady Irene begging for sexual release but she was not allowed to masturbate in the temple. Once inside, the devotee’s sexual pleasure is an offering to our beloved goddess Calypso. A priest or priestess served as the go-between the divine and humans. Lady Irene didn’t have wait too long to connect with Goddess because two other priests quickly filled every orifice with their ready cocks. 

Randith dragged me behind her to the holy interior of the temple. We bowed down before the Holy Cunt of Calypso and proceeded to kiss the protruding clitoris twice. Only then could I wrap my soft white tunic around my waist and try to discover the reason behind Randith’s interruption of my priestly duties. This must be very serious because this never happened once during my five years as novice or the next three years as a priest.

Randith took me through the veil behind the statue of Calypso into her private boudoir. A huge bed in a form of an altar dominated the room. A priest and a priestess that guarded the holiest place in the temple came to attention and then dropped to their knees when Randith entered. She dismissed them with a wave of her hand and glided over to the bed.

I didn’t neglect my duties and quickly prepared the cushions around my mistress to make her comfortable. She extended her long beautiful legs like a cat stretching after a nap, giving me a glimpse of her private parts. From between her outer lips protruded her inviting sex lips, opening to me like butterfly wings.

This is the first time since my initiation that I have seen her in this position. But then I had the privilege to kiss, caress and suck on those beautiful nether lips. She also offered her clitoris to me before she allowed me to enter her. I am still the proud holder of the record for the longest initiation fuck – four hours non-stop – before Randith allowed me to release my holy milk into her depths.

I didn’t think that I was in her chambers for another marathon session.

“My dear Zenoi, I have an important task for you,” said Randith tapping on the bed next to her. I sat down, taking her beautiful hand in mine. “Queen Amida from Aesopus will arrive tomorrow on an official state visit and I want you to be her escort.”

I dropped her hand in shock. This was truly a blessed moment. The lovely Queen Amida is known for her sexual appetite and her wonderful orgies in honor of our beloved goddess Calypso. To be chosen as her official escort meant that I was to pleasure her every whim. The mere thought of making love to the queen of our closest ally before the whole nation had its effect on my rapidly growing member.

Randith saw the movement beneath my silk tunic and smiled. She slid her hand over my leg and under my garment, coming to rest around my penis.

“I am glad your recovery time is improving. Queen Amida will approve and I know that you will not disappoint the temple.” Randith opened her legs slightly wider to show me the glistening wetness of her sex. It’s wonderful to know that touching my erect member or the mere thought of coming events could still turn on our High Priestess. 

“It will be my privilege to be of service to the Queen,” I said, while Randith pumped my fully erect cock.

“Enough of this. Go and prepare yourself.” Slowly, I retreated backwards from her chamber and once outside the temple I screamed and jumped in the air. I ran over the cobbled streets and beneath the tropical trees of Pudenta, kissing and hugging people as I went along. This was truly good news that I wanted to share with my parents.

I arrived out of breath at their home in the lush area next to the river. The door of the house was the most beautiful depiction of an aroused cunt in all of the kingdom of Eros. It was sculpted by the best artist in the country as a favor to my mother, who at forty is still as sexy and active as any eighteen year old. My father is a tall dark and handsome man with a cock to be proud of. I am grateful that they sent me to the Temple when they discovered my powers of love.

I knocked twice and entered unannounced. No one was in the lounge area but I could hear little cries of pleasure coming from the main bedroom. I moved over and saw my mother laying on the bed with her blond head between the legs of their neighbor Sandl, a beautiful redhead woman. My father was standing on his knees on the bed with his cock in Sandl’s mouth while he caressed her large breasts. 

“Zenoi, my boy. It is good to see you,” my father said without missing a beat. My naked mother looked up from her position, saw me and smiled. She got up, kissed and hugged me. I could taste the pussy juice of Sandl on her mouth. 

“Do you want to help pleasure Sandl while her husband is away on business or do you want something to drink?” my mother asked. She took me over to the bed and for the first time Sandl looked up from her position. She gave a little scream when she saw me, but continued pumping my father’s cock. With her other hand she opened her pussy lips as an invitation to enter her. My mother removed my tunic and guided my erect member to Sandl’s waiting pussy.

Once I was inside, my mother started to kiss my father and the two fell onto the bed next to us. I slowly moved my pelvis up and down not to hurt Sandl with my movements. Despite having two children, she was very tight but because of my mother’s previous attention to her pussy, I slipped in without a problem. Her velvet cave welcomed my cock like an old friend and I started to move in and out of her. I slid my hand between our bodies and sought out her pleasure trigger. To the rhythm of our movements I moved my fingers rapidly over her clitoris. I could feel Sandl involuntary contract her vagina muscles around my member.

My mother sat on my father’s cock, riding him like a horse. His hands were busy with her breasts and her clitoris. They were both very aroused and came quickly. Sandl’s passionate screams brought me back to my own pleasure. I wanted to share my good fortune with my parents as soon as possible and I hurried in my stroke making. Sandl turned around on her hands and knees for me to continue from behind. She also sought out my mother’s wet pussy to lick it clean from my father’s come. The erotic scene playing before stimulated my passion. I grabbed Sandl by the hips and started pumping in harmony with her movements between my mother’s legs. My cock hit the back wall of her pussy, sending pleasure messages to my brain. I became my cock as burning pleasure and just before I found release I pulled out to allow Sandl to swallow my juice.

We took a few moments to recover from our passion.

“Thank you, Zenoi for helping me” said an exhausted Sandl. “May the goddess Calypso bless you.”

“She already has,” I said and shared my good fortune with my naked parents and their neighbor. 

“I knew something good like would eventually happen,” said my mother, our clothes still forgotten. We were drinking freshly squeezed fruit juice, relaxing in the lounge. “We’re so proud of you.”

“I heard that Queen Amida has problems getting aroused and is coming to Pudenta for a cure,” interrupted Sandl. She crawled on her hands and feet over to where I was sitting. Taking my penis in her hands she caressed it and kissed it. “Fortunately, I don’t have that problem.” 

To be Continued: (If readers are interested. Please let me know.)