In the dimly lit confession booth of St. Peter’s Church, Father Thomas sat listening to the soft whispers of the woman before him. The screen that separated them did little to hide the curvaceous figure of the woman, her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” she murmured, her voice shaking ever so slightly.
Sister Mary, a petite woman with small, firm breasts and a body that was the subject of many a man’s fantasies, had been harboring impure thoughts for weeks. As she knelt before the confessional, she couldn’t help but feel the stirrings of desire as she imagined the priest on the other side of the screen, his strong hands exploring her body.
Father Thomas listened intently as Sister Mary confessed her sins, his cock growing hard in his robes as he imagined the young nun’s body, her perky breasts and tight ass. He had always had a weakness for the young women who came to the church, their innocence and purity a temptation that he struggled to resist.
“Go and sin no more,” he told her, his voice barely above a whisper.
As Sister Mary left the confessional, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment. She had hoped for more from the father, a sign that he felt the same desire that she did. But as she walked down the dimly lit hallway, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Wait,” Father Thomas whispered, his voice thick with desire.
Sister Mary turned to face him, her heart racing as he pulled her into a dark corner of the hallway. He pressed his lips to hers, his tongue exploring her mouth as she moaned softly. She could feel his hard cock pressed against her thigh, and she reached down to stroke it through his robes.
“Father,” she gasped, her voice filled with need.
He pulled her into a nearby room, locking the door behind them. He pushed her up against the wall, his hands roaming over her body as he kissed her deeply. She could feel the rough texture of his robes against her skin, the sensation driving her wild.
He pulled her dress up, revealing her small, firm breasts and the black lace thong she wore beneath. He cupped her breasts in his hands, his thumbs teasing her nipples as she moaned. He bent his head to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting gently as she cried out.
He reached down to pull her thong aside, his fingers finding her wet and ready. He stroked her clit gently, teasing her as she squirmed against him. She could feel her orgasm building, her muscles tightening as he fucked her with his fingers.
“Please, Father,” she begged, her voice filled with need.
He pulled his fingers out, replacing them with his cock. He thrust into her hard, filling her completely as she cried out. He fucked her rough and fast, their bodies slapping together as they moaned in pleasure.
“Yes, Father, yes,” she cried out, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave.
He thrust a few more times before pulling out, his cum spilling over her stomach and breasts. She reached up to stroke his cock, milking every last drop from him.
As they lay there, panting and spent, Sister Mary couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt. She knew that what they had done was wrong, but she couldn’t help the way she felt. She was drawn to the father, his strength and power a temptation that she couldn’t resist.
And as they lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, they both knew that this was only the beginning.
