Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
He groaned against my neck, a low, quiet sound that I felt against my skin more than I heard.
“I want you to rub your clit in tight little circles. Do not stop until I tell you to. Do not come until I tell you to. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Father,” I said, and I slid my hand down my body and did as he said, amazed at how wet I was.
The familiar pressure built inside of me, and I had to go back to sinking my teeth into my forearm to stop myself from moaning.
“God, your ass is so tight,” he growled. “It feels so damn good.”
More pride bloomed inside of me as I continued to rub myself in tight little circles like he told me to. The pleasure in my core built and built, and I was pretty sure his words added to that pleasure. My heart rate picked up, hammering in my ears as a thin sheen of sweat broke out down my back, and my skin seem to explode into tiny goosebumps. My thighs gave that telltale quake, and I tightened my grip on the shelves until my knuckles were white and aching.
“Not yet, angel,” he growled. “Do not stop, but do not give in to it. Not yet.”
I said nothing. I couldn’t. I was afraid if I moved even a little that would set off my orgasm and he would be disappointed in me. I refused to disappoint him.
The pressure still built to unbelievable heights, and I closed my eyes, tightened my core, and pressed my teeth into my arm harder.
He let out another muffled groan that both had me worried someone would hear and happy that my body could give him pleasure. That it was my body pulling those noises from his lips.
“Not yet,” he breathed again, and I was not entirely sure he was talking to me. I thought he was trying to tell himself not to come, not to fill me up so as to enjoy this feeling for just a few more moments.
“Please.” I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hang on. My core ached, my ass was on fire, and I was still rubbing my clit in tiny little circles, but I needed release. Even my thighs were burning from trying to stop their trembling.
“Come,” he commanded.
As if his words were from God himself, my body obeyed. I sank my teeth even harder into my arm, tasting blood as my core spasmed over and over. I could feel my body clenching over his cock in my ass as he filled me, and pleasure engulfed all of my senses.
I was still shaking when he started petting my back, calming me. His cock was still hard in my ass.
“Do not move,” he said as he pulled away from me. I looked over my shoulder and saw him wiping his cock clean on a purificator cloth, then he opened a box of short, thick candles and removed one, covering it in more oil.
“You are not to remove this until you get home. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Father,” I said. As the orgasm wore off and my head cleared, the horror of what I had just done, what we had just done, sank in.
My cheeks burned with humiliation, and my eyes flooded with tears as he took the candle and forced it into my now gaping asshole. Filling me with shame.
He pulled my panties back up, securing everything in place without cleaning me up at all. I felt dirty. I was dirty. When he told me to stand and turned me around, he wiped the tears from my cheeks and kissed me.
“Now, be a good girl. Go sit where I can see you,” he said as he guided us both out of the small closet.
CHAPTER 22
THOMAS
As we left the storage closet, not a single person said a word. No one even noticed us.
No one except for one priest, who was looking for me.
He came up to me, concern in his eyes.
“What was that about? Why were you in that room with that girl?”
“Miss Astrid was having a moment of doubt. With the stress of her mother’s current issues, she just needed someone to confide in for a moment. She didn’t feel comfortable being in a confessional doing it, so I gave her a quick moment to let her air her grievances, and then bring her back to the light,” I said, smiling, amused by my little double play there.
“Of course,” the other father said, satisfied with my answer. “Would you mind leading the mass today? I’m afraid I’m not feeling that well.”
He was fine. Only hungover from the communion wine he had snuck out the night before. I did not know why he felt the need to sneak and hide his drinking. We were Catholic, for Christ’s sake. He could have just gone down to the pub and there wouldn’t have been a single problem with it.