0 comments/ 11795 views/ 1 favorites Communion By: Bendis The room is dark around us, except for the few candles I'd lit before joining you in our big bed. A storm is in the distance, the low rumbles of occasional thunder signaling its approach. For now, only a light rain falls outside but the wind is gusty - rushing around the corners of the house with an eerie howl. Our rituals are unspoken and undefined, yet we'd always practiced them with the reverence of a pious Christian imbibing their Christ on the venerated day of rest. We'd even taken to calling it "communion", when we joined like this - when we met in our darkened and candlelit room to partake of the other, to share and give of each other's body, of each other's blood - worshipping one another with our own dark rites. We're sitting on the bed, facing one another. The flicking candle flames cast shadows every where, deepening the already dark circles around your eyes - you look positively frightening in this light and it gives me a shiver every time I see you in it. I hand you the razor blade, and you take it from me without even looking at it. "Where?" you ask, eyes boring into mine. There's no need for many words, not when we're communicating on this level. I reach out and lightly trace a faint line just above your right nipple. I sit back again, waiting while you prepare for the cut - the cleansing. I've cut there before, but never deeply. It's a sweet pain - a warm burning that is pleasurable. I'm giddy with anticipation, and twist my hands in my lap anxiously. I like to cut quickly and violently - but you're much more methodical than I; or perhaps sadistic is a better word. You cut slowly, and deeply - I watch as you push the blade into your skin and unhurriedly begin to drag it across. My first instinct, always, is to turn away, but I don't. Instead I watch in rapt fascination as the bright metal slides across your skin - leaving a deep, red line in its wake. It's not a very long cut, and as you get to the end the first thick droplet of blood begins to seep from the wound. With a primal moan, I move towards you, putting my hands against your chest and bringing my mouth to the cut. The sight of the blood alone has me in a state of euphoria, but it's still nothing compared to the first taste of it on my tongue. Hungrily, I lick the blood that is now flowing freely - you never disappoint me, always cutting deep enough for a steady flow. I feel you wrap your arms around me with a low moan. I bathe the wound, drinking of you, swirling my tongue around your nipple and staining your chest with smeared blood. I think I might cum just from this. Tasting your blood brings me to my most primal state, and all I know now is to taste and drink of you, going at you like some wild animal. I bite your nipple viciously, and you grab a handful of my hair, yanking it hard and forcing my head back. I look up at you, my mouth smeared with blood, my eyes wide and wild. I lick my lip, wanting what I know is going to come next. Your lips meet mine in a hard kiss. You push me onto my back and in a seemingly fluid motion ram your cock inside of me. There's no need for ceremony, the need is too urgent. I cry out in pleasure and pain. You move up on me, so that I have access once more to your bloodied chest. Greedily, I wrap my arms around you, digging my nails into your back and pulling you closer so that I can taste you again. I can hear your own moans, groans and growls and mixing with my own it's a beautiful primordial cacophony. You're fucking me so hard, and it hurts but I still want more. I feel you grabbing my wrist and pulling it above my head, and up to you. I'm not expecting the sudden dull sting that suddenly burns just below my wrist or the sensation of cold air on an open wound and I cry out, loving the feeling, loving that you've opened me up. You don't taste me right away, because I can feel a long rivulet of blood trickle down the length of my arm. Then the warmth of your mouth closes over the exposed cut and I can feel your wet tongue slowly teasing the small opening. You pull back and lick the blood that is pouring out now, your tongue following the long trail of it down my arm. After a bit of this ecstasy - being fucked by you, tasting you while you're tasting me, you bring your face to mine. I wonder if I look as you do - wild with a feral-bloodlust burning in your eyes, almost as if you're drunk on my blood, your mouth and cheeks smeared with the dark red liquid. The storm outside has come - thunder explodes and lightening illuminates the room with an eerie pale blue glow as torrents of rain pound against the window. You kiss me feverishly, and I wonder how we can ever join more fully in our earthly forms - our blood and saliva mixing in our kiss, your cock buried deep inside of me soon to pour forth your seed. I can feel my own orgasm rising at the thought, and know yours is as well. I feel you spasm inside of me, a second ahead of my own, and it hits me like a tidal wave. The entire universe is reduced to a swirling rapture of nothingness - only you and I and our raucous cries. I awake a bit later - unsure how much time has passed. The intensity of our coming together apparently knocked us straight into an unconscious state. The storm has passed and the room is still, the dripping candles still dancing on their wicks in the hushed air. You're lying on top of me, your head resting on my chest. Your eyes open as I look down at you. I give you a weak smile, and you lean up and kiss me gently. You take my hand and kiss my cut, still bleeding slightly. My entire arm is covered in drying blood - in fact, most of our bodies and the bed are. The intensity of the orgasm begins to hit me as I come down and back to reality, and tears well in my eyes. You crawl up closer to me, sliding out of me in the process, and pull me into your arms and rock me gently while I cry, whispering soft words into my ear - I always cry after these exchanges, great racking sobs that will eventually subside into an uncontrollable fit of the giggles. As the tears lessen, I look up at you, a smile on my face - already feeling the urge to laugh and you smile back at me. "There is nothing," I whisper to you, touching your face. "Nothing but this - nothing but us." You pull me to you and kiss me again, a slow, tender and soft kiss that eventually leads into a heated, passionate one. I can feel your cock stirring against my leg once more and suddenly I need you inside of me again with a terrible urgency. We make love then, in the early morning hours, and fall into a deep sleep with you still inside of me. Communion Richard opened the door to Cabin 37, swung his suitcase and a shopping bag in behind him, set them down, smiled at Leah standing by the mantel, and smiled, "Hello, lovely." He stepped to her, took her two hands in his and twirled her around as if in the opening bars of a soft rhumba. "Twelve months is much too long to make a man wait to offer up such beauty to the gods of love." "Twelve hours would be too long to wait for you," Leah purred as she pulled him closer and took his face in her slender fingers. She brought her lips just into contact with his and breathed, "There's a reason I wore a skirt, my love. And that reason has been wet for an hour waiting for you and your touch." He smiled as he pulled back slightly. "Then I'm sure it can wait a little longer – and it will be all the better for that, my love. Let's have some of that wine you set out." Richard stepped to the small table in front of the bay window and poured from the bottle of merlot. Leah set two slices of fontinella cheese on rounds of baguette and offered one to him. He raised his glass to her. "To us. For always and forever." "To us. And to once again finding the heat that feeds our souls." They looked in each other's eyes, sipped the merlot, and shared their bread and cheese. With each sip and sharp-flavored bite their eyes and lips moved a little closer. With one eye on the picture of Monroe on the wine bottle, Richard drew Leah toward him with light fingers on her cheek. Their lips met, he closed his eyes, and they rose from their chairs without breaking the kiss. Leah mouthed yes into his ready mouth and reached around his head to keep him close. Richard tore into her kiss as if to feed the hunger of the damned. As his tongue met hers, he felt her hips pulse against his wiry frame and he met every motion with a push of his own. Soon he had lost any sense of where he left off and where Leah began. She was a part of him again. After so many weeks and months and hundreds of nights apart, she was with him, in him, beside him, around him. They were waves again in the same ocean, stars in the same sky, bees dancing again on the same sweet petal. Leah turned to bring her back against Richard and pulled his hands to her breasts. "Worship them, like you do. Please. They need you so much now." He breathed into her ear, "Of course," and began gliding his hands over the silken gold blouse made taut by her fullness and the rhythmic arching of her back against him. "They're beautiful, they are you, they are yours, I want them to be mine." He could feel her nipples tighten and swell through the fabric. As he scraped one with the tip of his finger, she moaned and turned her mouth to his. "Yes, make them yours." Richard held her kiss and brought one hand over her shoulder to slide into her blouse where he cupped first one breast and then the other, giving each its due attention. Leah answered by grinding her ass hard against him and urgently sucking his tongue into her kiss. He twisted her nipple between his thumb and finger until her gasp broke their kiss. She pulled his hand away and slowly brought it down her side to the hem of her skirt. Her breath caught in a staccato when she left his hand to do its will. He reached beneath her skirt and found her wetness through the fabric there. Sliding two fingers lingeringly up the to the waist of her panties, he could feel her tremble. She parted her legs as he slipped his fingers under the hem at the height of her thigh and he heard a low moan rise from deep in her chest as he slowly moved them down the hem, barely allowing them to graze her skin. When he had found that place where his fingers could reach through to emerge along the other cheek he suddenly lifted the panties hard into her. Leah groaned and leaned forward to support herself on the arm of the couch. He lifted her skirt and jammed the hem of it into the waistband, exposing her ass cheeks to him. The years had been kind to her. Skin still taut, clear. Thirty years of this and he still wanted her as deeply as ever. The guilt would come, surely, as it always did. But now, how can a man refuse this? Leah's moans grew rhythmic now as Richard stroked her bare cheeks repeatedly with his fingertips, gliding them from bottom to top and down again. He continued for long minutes, savoring the feel and the resulting sighs and moans as he varied his touch and the pattern of his strokes. "Oh, lover, you're making me wait too long. I'm so wet for you. Please make me yours again." "In good time, my sweet. Besides, you like surprises." The pitch of her moans rose, telling him she heard the anticipatory sound as he undid his zipper. He reached around her hips and slid a hand inside the hem along the front where soon he found the wetness that was her core. She gathered her breath and her hips rounded forward into his hand as he curled two fingers into her. As his breath condensed on her shoulder, his fingers curled upward inside her, pressing into that most deeply sensitive spot. "Oh yes, more. Oh my God! Yes." Richard pressed his fingers into her more deeply and increased the pace of his motions as her cries rose in pitch and fever. Just a few more, just a few. Yes, her shudders and cries reached a crescendo just as he dug his fingers deep into that spot and lifted her off the floor. While she was still in spasms he pulled the fabric aside from her ass and entered her wetness and warmth quickly and deeply. "Here, lovely, here. Enjoy me." And he could tell she did, for her spasms continued and her cries resumed, but with a raspy and more profound note now, as if he was somehow stroking into the very center of her being. After a few thrusts she began to push back against him, the hunger of months without such pleasure showing in every motion. He could feel the temper of her need around him as she squeezed and thrust back on him and he returned her heat with his own. Their pace quickened and soon he began pulling on her hips to strengthen his thrusts. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted me to fuck you hard and fast like this, didn't you?" "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yessss." With each cry she took him into her and he could feel her inner muscles clenching as if to keep him inside forever. But his own desire was too much for her strength and as he approached his climax he was moving in a furious, mindless rhythm. His vision narrowed. He saw only white around the edges as he struggled to focus on her hair, her neck, her back – anything to keep his grip on reality as the fierce uprush began to overtake him. Months of denial and desire erupted in a hoarse, primal cry and he slumped against her back. Her own screams echoed his, filling the small room until both of them were silently pulsing. He felt the syncopation of their pulsing, held himself close inside her, and finally breathed, "You have my body; you have my life." "My body is yours. I'm real once again." On the table by the window the bread and cheese reflected the afterglow of the now-dropped sun. Marilyn was still stretched out on red satin on the half-full bottle, and two glasses still held their promise of new life, memories relived, and memories yet to come. Communion   I could be a better person, I know it, I mean I'm no drug pusher or anything. I'm not a user even, I haven't robbed a bank and for the most part I stayed away from the ladies. Sure, I was a nice enough guy and talked to people all the time, actually giving them advice on many occasions, but I am still convinced I could be better. Being out on the street a lot, I did get to know a seedy element, especially the hookers. Mind you, I never went with them, I knew them all, but they were more like sisters to me. Okay, really slutty sisters, but none of them really interested me. Well, Francy, the new one did just a bit, but hell I'd never try to actually transact some business with her. I did have a bit too much of the sacrificial jug of wine, but I was a gentleman through almost all of my conversation with Francy. Yes, I did start up the conversation with her, but I usually do that with all the girls, "Wow, since when did they let beauty queens on the street corner," I said. "You like what you see?" "Of course, hey, my name's is Jonathan, Johnny for short. What's your name?" "Francy." "I like that name, Francy, yes, like fancy but a little more. Tell me fancy lady has business been good for you?" "It's been pretty good, especially since I got here," she replied toying with the top button on her blouse. "Where's the rest of the girls?" "The rest of the girls?" "Yeah, Candy, Justine, Marygood... even Lolita's not here." "Well I don't know them very well, guess they all got dates. How about you, you want a date?" "Nah, I mean I'd like a date, but I'm not really ready for profession dating, if you get my drift." "Oh come on. You ain't had nothing until you let a pro get her hands on you." "No, I don't think I'm ready for that, besides, what I got is ah, well... it's on the diminutive side." "What side you talkin' about," she asked shrilly. "It's small, embarrassingly small." "Oh come on, I can please even the smallest guy." I just shook my head. "Let me see it, I'll bet I can get it to grow." "No, that's okay, besides I need to get going, I think I may have a check ready for me." "A check for you where?" "The welfare office down the street." "That's good, you go get some money and then come back." I left, heading for the racetrack. I didn't want to give her the impression that I had a lot of money to spare, I wanted to keep that low key. Anyway, once she was out of sight I hailed a cab and rode to the track. Wandering toward the clubhouse, I had to tip the doorman just to let me in. Yeah I guess I wasn't wearing my Sunday best that morning. Well, I wasn't all that interested in the races, I just kept thinking about that hooker as I fuddled around with a bet here and there. I pretty much broke even until the last race when I caught a lucky break on a long shot and won about eight hundred dollars. I tipped the doorman once again as I left and then headed back out onto the street. I just couldn't get her out of my head so I hailed a cab and headed back to the street corner. Sure enough she was still there so I wandered over, "Hey fancy lady, still all by yourself." Shrugging her shoulders she said, "Why are you in a cab, thought you just went to get a check?" "Nah, just got lucky at the race track." "So that bit you gave me about a welfare check was..." "Just a tiny misdirection," I interrupted, "but tell me Francy, what are you doing out here on the streets? Someone like you could be making some real money with the upscale..." "Look's like you have your secrets, I have mine. Now how about I show you something special." I should have walked away, or continued the inane banter, but the erection in my pants took over my thinking. "Where did you have in mind?" "I've got a room in the hotel here," she gestured over her shoulder. I should have turned her down, instead I followed her to her room, and handed her fifty bucks for a "quick one." She unzipped my pants immediately but I stopped her. "You're staying dressed?" "For fifty bucks I stay dressed. Add another fifty and I'll get naked for you." Nodding, I handed her another fifty dollars and then watched as she undressed. Damn, she was incredible, such beautiful breasts, big, but not too big. Anyway she let me look a her a while then she kneeled in front of me, pulled out my cock and sucked it into her mouth like she hadn't eaten in weeks. I must admit it was nice, certainly better than the few blow jobs I had received in my life. I think it was in the way she worked her tongue while keeping the intense suction on me. Her hands were nice too, stroking my shaft as her mouth worked the head. Before long, I reached down, put my hand on her shoulders and helped guide her back and forth motion. As I got closer and closer to coming I could feel my muscles tighten, my hands tightened on her. I felt the pleasure shoot through my cock as I arched my back and squeezed my hands as hard as I could as I spurted my cum again and again. As my cock began to shrink I released her, letting her fall back onto the ground. Slipping my cock back into my pants, I zipped up my zipper and headed for the door. Opening the door I looked back at her and gazed a moment at her beautiful body before stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind me. It wasn't until the following day, as I was writing my Sunday sermon that I heard something on the TV about a hooker being murdered and it was apparently the fifth murder of a hooker in the neighborhood. "So sad, so sad," mumbled, wondering if I should write a sermon about the problem. "Maybe next week," I told myself finishing up the for the day. I didn't think about Francy or the others until it was time for communion. Oddly, each time I held the host out to a parishioner and said, "Body of Christ," I found myself thinking, "Body of Francy, Body of Candy, Body of Justine, Body of Marygood and Body of Lolita."   Communion Sue-Ann, 18, had been an only child for the first 10 years of her life, before her parents gave birth to Michele a late arrival and a younger sister for her to protect and play with and help her through all her little girl stages of childhood. Su-Ann brought Michele who was turning age 8 in another month to the church for her first communion as the other kiddies were preparing. This time Mass would include first communions for Michele and her class mates. Su-Ann left her with her Religious Instruction teacher to organise their seating and to go over their rituals. She walked over to the vestry to see me as I prepared for the mass. 'Hi Father Michael,' she said with a wholesome girl-next-door smile. She was wearing a short loose black dress and a pair of red high heeled shoes that made a clicking noise as she walked. She was far from the awkward kid I had known mostly to be a tom boy with freckles and the cheekiest smile I ever saw. 'Hello Su-Ann,' I answered. I had known Su-Ann and her family for most of her life. She had grown up and was living away from home at this stage, although she was a frequent visitor to her family and continued to have a lot of fun with her young sister. Su-Ann told me she had applied for study interstate and thought she had a good chance of being accepted. I told her I would miss her and wished her well. She moved close to me and shaped for a cuddle. I leaned forward and put my arms around her for a polite acquaintance hug. Sue-Ann held on and moved in close and I could feel her whole body take up her position along my body with her legs squeezing either size of my left leg. She had always been a friendly girl and we'd hugged one another numerous times in the past. I guessed this time would probably be the last time for the foreseeable future and she appeared to make the best of it. She swivelled her hips against the top of my leg and in a very unpriestly manner, I could feel my penis begin to swell with the arousal of her very personal behaviour. She must have been aware of it beginning to swell. 'Su-Ann, what are you doing?' I asked her. She stood back and moved her hand down to my penis to feel what state it was in. 'I want to give you a proper kiss. You've always been supportive of me and given me good advice when I needed someone to talk to. I let her kiss me. She parted her lips slightly and licked my lips with her tongue. 'You're getting bigger Father Michael. Do you need to move your willie to make more space? Then she added, 'Let me give you another kiss before you get ready for mass'. 'Su-Ann, What are you thinking?' 'To be honest, Father, I'm thinking what it would be like to feel you all over some time'. 'You're too young to do all that kind of thing'. 'No I'm not. I do certain favours for some boys in class in return for letting them help me with my homework. And do you know what? I don't even need them to do my homework, but it makes them feel intelligent. I have to correct their work and edit it back to original so the assignments actually make sense.' I was bewildered. I asked, 'Why do you do it? You might as well just do your own work.' 'For fun. I think there's no harm done,' she said. 'Most of the boys are too dumb to catch on.' Then she stood with her hands on her hips and claimed with adolescent assurance and plenty of cheek, 'I do the best hand work in school' All this time, I'm getting incredibly turned on. Su-Ann was showing a completely new side of her personality to me I had never seen before. Sassy would best describe it. And she was making big claims about her prowess. She lifted my vestments to try and find my underwear. Before I knew it I could feel her small hand gently wrapping around my quickly swelling penis. 'Father Michael, you're not wearing anything under your church clothes.' 'On warm days like this I don't usually feel the need'. 'Wow! Very sexy. I'm going to pay you for helping Michele to prepare for her First Communion. Sit on this chair,' she said pointing to a wine coloured velvet covered chair. She had completely taken over, and as I had known her since her own first communion, I was loath to admonish her. She implied, she wanted to show her gratitude. I thought she wanted to play with another prick and she had thought of a spurious excuse to feel me up. But above all these considerations, true or not, I was incredibly turned on, and while my vow of chastity was serious to me, so was my vow of charity, and I did not feel right to deprive either of us of some harmless pleasure. I slouched in the chair and helped her pull up my priestly vestments. They are absurdly long, so Su-Ann draped them back over my shoulders and face. I was effectively blindfolded and Su-Ann manoeuvred me into position. She gently pushed my knees apart and began feeling me starting from my feet. Even that was an incredible turn on and she must have seen my prick swell up and stand to attention. I could feel it throbbing as she worked her soft hands slowly up my legs. She placed my hands on my knees and lifted them high and wide apart. From that position she must have seen a graphic view of my penis, my balls and my anus. Her fingers lightly spidered along my thighs to my balls. She glided her hands through my pubic hair and gradually forced my balls down and into the bottom of my sac. She sucked each testicle for a few seconds. I wondered what that tasted like. After playing with them for a moment, she traced her fingers along the creases dividing my buttocks and the tops of my legs, one at a time, then incredibly, she gently traced her fingertips along the cleavage of my arse, not stopping at my anus, but proceeding right past it, and back again. I was so turned on, thought I was going to start squirting semen over her dress. She paused for a moment and I thought she might sneak out while I couldn't see her. Then she reassured me of her continued presence when she said, 'No peeking?' Then I could feel something on my mouth. I thought it was some kind of growth, but it was her nipple. I sucked it into my mouth and flicked it a few times with my tongue. Her hands were lightly ruffling my hair, which I took to be encouragement. After another minute of this, she withdrew, slowly dragged her hands down my chest, my lower stomach, and both hands found their way to the base of my throbbing cock. She stretched the skin of my penis and somehow her wet fingers were circling my penis just under the crown, exactly where it has the most effect. Su-Ann must have been playing with my penis in the way that God intended because I thought I was in Heaven. She held my hands wide apart and then placed them both on her beautiful firm warm tits, but she had her back to me. I felt her beautiful breasts for a few moments, then she removed my hands and seemed to change her position. I pulled my vestments away from my face. That was when I realised the previous moments of silence and non-contact must have been when Su-Ann stripped herself almost naked. She was still wearing her red high heels. I had to see what this sexy rampant teenager would do to me next. I watched as she manoeuvred into position. She located the end of my straining cock at the opening of her little cunt. I watched my cock slowly disappear between her buttocks and into her tight slippery wet hole. It was a picture of graphic sex worthy of a porno movie, but I was the participant. I was so aroused that all her ministrations and caresses on my body, particularly all the attention she gave to my erogenous zones had driven me almost to the point of climax. I tried to withhold my semen. I really shouldn't ejaculate into a parishioner I had known for so long, but I had gone way past the point of no return. I could feel pins and needles between my legs and my face flushed. Had I been standing, I would have collapsed in a heap on the floor. I still tried to hold on, but my climax was taking over my body. I lost all my options and started thrusting my cock as deep and hard as I could into Su-Ann's hungry little cunt. I feverishly ejaculated into her swivelling sex within two thrusts of my own. I was no longer the priest that Su-Ann had confessed to as she was growing up. I was a maniacal oversexed man with a willing young woman who I was fucking indulgently for my own salacious gratification. After the aftershocks subsided, Su-Ann moved slowly away freeing my still throbbing penis. She reached for the Purificator Cloth that covers the chalice and used it to clean the semen dribbling down her leg, then she dropped it on the floor for me to take care of. She bent and kissed me and said 'Thank you Father Michael. That was lovely. I hope you don't forget me.' That'll never happen. She put her dress back on, she did not seem to be wearing nickers, and with her red high heeled shoes clicking on the floor, she walked out of my room and rejoined the parents and friends of the first communicants to lend them her support. I watched as she was fussed over Michele's white dress and little black shoes and getting her hair straight. I finished preparing for mass, and a few minutes later, Su-Ann entered the church with Michele and the other first communicants. She was such a devoted parishioner.