As if two jobs and as much photography as I can possibly squeeze in wasn't enough, I thoroughly enjoy writing short stories. Creative writing. Though my style may not be to the liking of some people, as it's blunt and often from the dark side of humanity. But I don't write for other people. I write for my own pleasure and to maintain good mental health. Here is a sample for you.
He wasn’t bad looking for a priest. Tall;
probably 185 cm. Muscular and carrying himself with dignity. You could only
wonder what had gotten him transferred to this godforsaken outpost? Or maybe it
was better not to wonder about that, at all.
She’d
been sitting there in the pews for a month now, blond, busty and beautiful,
wondering how deep his purity and morals were running. At 23, she knew there
were probably 15 years between them in age, but that’s not a major concern when
your hormones are raging and demanding to be satisfied. For two weeks, she’d
been carefully piecing together her plan.
After
the service, when the congregation had left, she stayed in her seat for a
couple of minutes, just to make sure they were all gone. Then she corrected her
white dress she’d carefully chosen. She knew that if the light was just right
and came from behind her, it would leave the dress semi-transparent. Through
the thin fabric, he’d be able to see the outlines of her bra and her panties.
When assured everyone had left, she walked up to him and asked him if she could have his attention for a moment. There was something she’d like to talk to him about. Something she’d like his opinion on. At first he was reluctant. Maybe a little intimidated. But when she persisted, he told her to come to the church office the following day. He’d be there to do “the usual paper work”.
The
next day, around noon, she walked back into the church which now was eerily
empty. One thing is being there for mass, but when the church is empty, there’s
just a totally otherworldly feeling to being there. She was wearing the same
dress but she’d chosen to leave a little more unbuttoned. Just enough that he
would surely notice her fairly deep cleavage. She’d done her makeup simply but
beautifully. Near perfect, and her nails, though lacquered, were clear and
natural.
She
didn’t see him anywhere in church, so she spent a minute or two just looking
around at the interior. The stained glass windows shining bright in the
sunlight. The altar, cleared for any item you’d usually see there, now looking
more like a dining table than anything else. The painting on the wall, of Jesus
rescuing his lost lamb, looking down on everything that took place at the
altar, it seemed. She hadn’t been to the office before but knew where it must
be, based on observations and so she followed her instincts.
When
she got there, the heavy oak door was open and she saw him standing with his
back to her, facing the window, searching in a stack of papers. He hadn’t seen
or heard her coming. She know that if she could get close to the window, having
him behind her, and then turn around, the light would do the rest of the job.
He, himself, was out of his usual church attire, just wearing his jeans and a
casual dress shirt. Though properly dressed for a casual afternoon in the
office, leaving two buttons unbuttoned made it obvious that he had a nice hairy
chest with great pecs. She couldn’t wait to see what the bottom half of him
looked like. How long had she not been fantasizing about this, about feeling
him inside her.
She
knocked on his door and walked right in as he was turning around. Right up to
the window, put two hands on the sill and leaned over a bit, as to look out the
window. “Nice view, Father”, she said. “Yes,
very nice indeed”, he said as he took a good look at her. “I always appreciate a beautiful view like
that”. She turned around just enough that her chest was in profile,
back-lit by the sun and make sure he would notice her cleavage. “But what did you want to see me about. What
is it that I can do for you”?
“A
couple of things”, she said. “A have problems with my boyfriend and want to
know if it’s ok for me to seek my happiness in greener pastures”? He didn’t
need to know she didn’t even have a boyfriend. That fact was kind of beside the
point, anyway. “And I also wanted to see more of the church and wondered if
maybe you could give me a tour, so to speak”? She turned and faced him
frontally, then walked up close to him. Inappropriately close. He had this…musky
scent that really made her pheromones kick into overdrive.
He
took a step backwards and looking downwards as if shy, which was probably not
the right word to describe her, she noticed that he was not untouched by the
situation, jeans nice and tight as he’d started to erect.
“As for your boyfriend…” he started, but
she cut him off: “We’ll get to him later”, she said. “Can you show me around a
little bit first?” He cleared his throat and put his right hand under his shirt
as if scratching an itchy pec. “Show me the altar, Father. I’ve always been
fascinated with the altar.” He hesitated for a moment, thinking about her
request. Then he came up very a very slowly pronounced “ok”. He hesitantly
turned around and started to slowly walk away. She took full advantage of the
momentary delay, quickly removed her bra and put it in the bottom drawer of his
office desk.
“Are you coming?” he asked as he turned
around. “I’m here, Father. Right behind you”. She felt free and liberated as
her breasts swayed under the thin fabric of her dress as she walked out to him.
“So
this is it” he said and put his left hand flat on the altar when he reached it,
turned around and pulled his head back with a jerk as he met her face just 30
cm from his. Not knowing she’d followed him that close he was startled as their
faces were so close they could feel each other’s warm breath.
She
smiled at him: “Show me, Father. Show me everything”. She grabbed his shirt by
the open buttons with both hands, turned his around and leaned herself up
against the edge of the altar top. She traced her right index finger down his
chest, drawing shapes through his hair like a trail winding it’s way through
the forest. She looked him right into his eyes and her gaze. He looked away for
a second or two, then nervously met her gaze again. Not knowing what to do with
his hands, he kept them down by his side. But when she ripped open his shirt in
a flash, and started kissing his nipples, letting her tongue play around them,
he put his hands on her hips, closed his eyes and tilted his head toward the
heavens as he started swaying back and forth.
Summoning
all his strength from the heavens above apparently wasn’t enough. Maybe St.
Peter just didn’t have time to come to his rescue. Or maybe this was Satan’s’
plan for him, right from the outset? If so, Satan had done his homework and
knew how to get results. “I’m gonna fuck you up, good” Satan seemed to tell
him. Overwhelmed by desire and lust, he gave her a shove with both hands on her
shoulders and she was more than willing to oblige, laying down on the altar,
legs dangling over the edge, spread enough that he could get in there.
A
sense of rage came over him. The kind of constructive anger and aggression you
only see when you are fighting for your life with a wild animal, and he bent
down and grabbed a hold of her dress by the middle of her chest and ripped it off her, so much so that he
tore the entire dress.
Lying
there with her perfect breasts exposed, watching his every move all along, he
looked her straight in the eyes for a second, grabbed both her breasts with his
hand and started sucking them like he hadn’t eaten for weeks. His tongue
dancing around her nipples and sucking them the best he’d ever dreamt of, her
nipples erected like rockets taking off into space. “Do you like me tits?” she
asked him softly while starting to breath heavily, looking down on his mouth
devouring her breast, sucking her nipples like cherry pits. “I love them. I
fucking love them”, he mumbled back with a mouth full of her breasts. From one
breast to the other and back again, like trying to keep two spinning tops going
at the same time. The softness of her perfect breasts and her hard pinkish
nipples made him insane. All along she was watching him with the greatest
pleasure. How she loved turning him on and she just knew she had him right where she wanted him, but she wasn’t done
with him yet.
She
sat up on her elbows; “Take your shirt off” she ordered him. Only happy to
oblige, he stood up, removed the shirt faster than he’d ever done before.
Dropped the shirt on the floor and bent down over her, again. She put her flat
right hand on his forehead as he was bending down on her: “Pant, too. I want
you completely naked. I want to see what you got”. He looked at her for a
second, as if to question something. “Do it. I want you totally naked. I want
your cock”.
The
Father stood up, again, putting his hairy chest of full display, much to her
delight. The he slowly undid his belt. Unbuttoned his jeans. Zipped them
down…and took them off. “Boxers too”, she demanded. “I want it all. I want you
totally naked. Now!”. When he pulled
down his boxers, his erect penis popped up, like a bouncing ball. Like a
jack-in-the-box, big, hard, throbbing.
She
raised her eyebrows at the sight of it. It was substantially bigger than she’d
expected. Not sure what she’d expected or why priests would have small ones,
but this one was…big. Probably a full 22 cm and you could see the veins in it,
pumped and full of blood. She got a little worried.
Still
acting like a starving homeless, she threw his arms under her knees, lifted
them up till his hand could get a hold of her tits and then he dug right in and
started eating her cunt while his thumbs and index fingers were playing with
her nipples, squeezing them. She leaned back down, head on the altar and took
in all the pleasure she could get, with her eyes closed and heavily breathing.
Once
his tongue found her clit, her body started jerking and her hips gyrating, to
find the best spot for maximum pleasure. Licking and sucking her, she was
throbbing like a wet dish rag. Her clean shaven cunt just totally turned him
on.
He stopped for a moment and took a look at her naked body in front of him, glistening in the holy light as she wiped his jellied up mouth with the back of his hand. She raised her head and looked back at him. He put his hands back under her knees and yanked her closer to him. Then he grabbed his cock by the shaft with his right hand and put it right up against her soaking wet cunt…and pushed himself deep inside her. She closed her eyes with a moan and her head fell back down over the edge of the altar as he started pounding her like a jackhammer. No mercy from this guy, now. She started squeeling with a mixture of pain and pleasure as her head came back over the edge of the altar and she opened her eyes slowly and looked right into the eyes of Jesus with his little lamb on the fresco on the wall. The pain quickly turned into deep pleasure and she smiled at Jesus as the Father hammered her cunt. His hands on her hips help him yank her hard into himself as the holy cock hammered itself into her in the opposite direction for maximum impact. She begged him: “Cum inside me, cum inside me” and shortly after he let out a primeval extended groan and he emptied his entire load inside her, only to collapse on top of her, their two sweaty melting into one. She looked back up and the fresco of Jesus with a satisfied, revengeful smile on her face. She could still feel his warm cum inside her. Then he pulled out of her and the Father’s holy sperm slowly seeped out of her, down onto the altar.
Over
the next couple of weeks, the holy Father showed her how blessed he was for
skills: Doggy style in the pews, on her knees, stomach over the back-rest. She
was getting used to his huge cock but when he gave it to her anally, she
squealed like pig being bled. At one point she was sure she saw and heard the
outside door open but quickly being closed again, only moment later to see
shadows pass by the big, stained glass windows. Deep inside, she took pleasure
in knowing they might have been caught.
She
got it in the centre isle, on the rug, with carpet burns to prove it and though
the thoroughly enjoyed being hammered closer and closer to the front door, her
butt cheeks got skinned and were painful for a while after that. She got melted
candle was poured over her nipples and all the way down her stomach to her cunt.
The holy father took pleasure in showing that he knew the ABCs of more than
just one book. He may not have read the Kama Sutra, but he appeared to know
exactly what is was all about. In return, she blew him in the pulpit. She
pulled him up there while she was naked, her clothes still scattered down the
isle. Then she pulled his pants down, ripped of his CK boxers and threw them
over the edge of the pulpit so they landed on the floor below like a parasuit
in a grassy field. She she grabbed his cock with her right hand and while
gently massaging his balls with her left, she started slowly rolling his shaft
while her mouth softly closed over the head. Moving her mouth up and down his
cock head while her tongue circling and tickling the bottom of the head where
it’s most sensitive while at the same time slowly turning up the speed of her
right hand rolling up and down his shaft, it didn’t take long before his body
started jerking and he took a good, strong grip on the roof of the pulpit, only
moments later to start his extended primeval groans. The first pump of his
ejaculate came in her face. The next couple of ones, out over the edge of the
pulpit, the last one slowly seeping down the outside of the pulpit like a slug
crossing the forest path.
It
wasn’t long after that she started feeling nauseas. Then she missed her first
period. Then she missed the next one and didn’t have it in her to go back, for
a while. When she finally made it back, about 3 months later, he was gone. No
clue where. Instead, there was a new Father…and he wasn’t bad looking at all,
for a priest, this new Father.
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