Little surprises me these days, but after realizing the mob will essentially be my intermediary to powerful men, I won’t lie and say I’m not the tiniest bit taken aback when I am notified that a man of the Church is the one who has procured me for that day. Even with the church’s reputation in tatters, there is always something peculiar when you come face-to-face with a “holy man” wanting to anoint you with his cock.
Duty called, and I made my way into the Church as ordered. I knew this priest, Father Scott, had probably been given at least a glimpse of me via photograph. But I made it a point to casually walk past his confessional booth as he wrapped up his duties to give him an even better look. The look on his face was something to behold, both incredulous that I was real, and mixed in was a look a pure, animalistic desire.
He stood up and walked out of his booth as I stood there, taking in the beautiful art and architecture surrounding me. He walked several paces and then glanced back at me, I turned my head slightly to meet his gaze and he all but motioned to me to follow him to his quarters.
I walked in and took in the sight of him. He was the epitome of “ruggedly handsome.” A masculine bearded face, and a clearly worked-out muscular body; it was easy to see in the outline of his black clothing and poorly hidden by his priestly stole. He motioned to me again, this time to come to him and he took me in visually for only a moment before kissing me deeply. He didn’t hesitate to tongue my mouth as deeply as possible. Not really rushing, but also not as if we had all the time in the world either. A kiss that encompassed his lust, his desire, his need for discretion, and the quantified amount of time we had together all in one.
Needless to say, we were both rock-hard. My shirt came off first, and I could feel him tremble just a bit as I began to unbutton his shirt. He removed his own pants and sat on his bed, expectant. Something about seeing a Priest’s hard cock was oddly invigorating. I have seen many, of all shapes and sizes, belonging to all manner of men. But this was different, it felt “wrong,” but it looked perfectly right. Rigid and twitching, deserving to be milked and relieved.
I knelt before Father Scott, and there on my knees, I began my real work. My mouth enveloped the holy man’s thick, uncut cock and he let out quiet moans and growls, letting me know it was what he both wanted and needed.
He had me bend over at the end of the bed and he spread my ass cheeks with his hands, letting his fingers prod my opening before bringing his bulbous cockhead to it. He used spit to let it pop in, and slid in as slowly as he could muster. But I could tell he was ready to go to town. He tried for a slow build up, but it wasn’t long before he was pounding every way he wanted, stopping only briefly to taste me then lube himself up even more. He kissed me again, deeply, before sitting on a beautiful old chair and beckoning me to ride him.
I could tell he thoroughly enjoyed watching me impale myself on him as he sat on his own little throne, and he probably could have done that all day. But neither time, nor his full balls were on our side. He had me lay on the bed and looked me straight in the eyes as he slid his rigid meat back inside me. I was rock-hard as he pumped in and out of me. I could feel him throbbing and pulsating with each thrust.
Almost unwittingly, but much to his excitement, I lost control and blew my load all over my belly. This sent him over the edge, and he howled as he pulled out of my chute and blew his load all over my cock and empty balls. He kissed me one last time, and upon both of us redressing, he caressed me and kissed me softly before giving me a blessing before sending me on my way.
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