"Father Josiah," Camilla said in pretend reproach to the plain-clothed priest as he, having just come in
Club Ritz
on Saturday night, walked over to her. "Why aren't you wearing your priest outfit? You look much sexier that way."
"Camilla, please," he said as they went into a private room. "Don't talk that way. I'm dishonouring my collar enough as it is. But speaking of clothes, you look lovely in that dress."
"Thank you," she said, looking down at her scarlet dress, which went only a third of the way down her upper legs. He sat on a couch, and she sat on his lap. "So, what can I do for you tonight, Father?"
"Actually,
I
was hoping to do something for
you
, Camilla," he said.
"Great," she said with a lewd smile. "I'll get naked, then."
"Wait, I didn't mean that. I thought of a job you could do while keeping your clothes
on
."
"How boring." She got up and dropped her dress on the floor. After kicking off her high heels, she was nude.
"Wait, hear me out. You could be a--"
"Source of great pleasure for you," she said. Then she licked his face several times, as much to stop his futile persuading as to arouse him. "Thanks, Father, but no thanks. I like it here."
"Why?"
"I like being sexy," she said, sitting on his lap with her back to him. A new song began. She started rubbing her buns against his erection. Its tip brushed against her wet vulva.
"But..."
"Sorry, Father. I'm really...not interested.
Oh!
" She took his hands and put them on her breasts. She guided his fingers to rub circles around her areolae. "Touch me like that. I like it.
Ah!
"
"I don't...have any money...for lap-dances," he said.
"That's OK...Make me come...and it's...for free."
"I mustn't...I'm guilty enough...as it is."
"You must...make me come...if you don't, without any money...to pay me, you'll be...beaten up...by the bouncers.
Oh!
"
"I can't."
"You already are," she said.
"I don't want...to sin...anymore."
"You don't want...to stop...any more...than I...want you to."
"Please...
oh!
I shouldn't," he panted.
"Touch me here," she said, taking his right hand off her breast and putting it on her pussy. She guided his index finger to rub against her clitoris. "Oh, that feels good." Then she got up, opened her buttocks wide to show him her anus, and looked back to see his reaction, which was an embarrassed blush. She turned around, and after brushing her breasts against his face, she sat on his lap again, but now facing him. She put his right hand on her vulva again, guiding his index finger inside and rubbing it against her G-spot. Then she put his left hand on her ass and opened her left buttock so she could put his long finger on her asshole to rub it.
"Camilla...this is...filthy," he sighed.
"No, it's not," she said. "I cleaned it thoroughly."
"No...what we're doing...is filthy."
"It's fun...enjoy yourself...I'm almost there...
Ah!
" Her left hand massaged the hard-on in his jeans, while her right hand went in his T-shirt and tickled his left nipple. About to come, she got up and put his hands under her cunt. Fingering her clit briefly, she then gushed all over his hands.
"Oh!"
"That's disgusting," he panted.
"No, it's not...It's tasty...try some." She pushed his hands up to his face; while a bit went in his mouth, much of the rest spilled on his chin, neck, and under his T-shirt, soaking his chest. "Oh, dear. I'll clean you up." She licked his hands clean, drinking the rest of her come, then she licked the rest off his chin, neck, and chest, pulling up his T-shirt and licking his left nipple.
"Why are you...so unashamed...to be...naked?" he asked.
"Why was Eve unashamed, before the Fall?"
"Touche."
The song ended, and she sat beside him.
"When God knew Adam and Eve were ashamed to be naked, He knew they'd eaten the forbidden fruit and fallen from grace," she said.
"True."
"To be saved," she continued, "Jesus says we have to be as a child, right?" She kept massaging the bulging hard-on in his jeans.
"Yeah."
"Innocent, naive, not judging. Three- and four-year-olds don't care if you see 'em naked, right? 'Cause they don't know there's something to be ashamed about."
"Right." His cock felt as if it would soon burst out of his jeans.
"Didn't Paul say we're justified by faith, and not the law?"
"Yes, but--"
"'If it had not been for the law, [Paul] would not have known sin'; didn't he say that in his letter to the Romans?" the naked theologian continued.
"Well yeah, but--"
"No one is justified before God by the law?" she asked, no longer touching his groin.
"How does a stripper know so much about the Bible?"
"In religion class at my Catholic high school, I sat up and listened (because I thought the teacher was cute). My photographic memory makes sure I don't forget."
"I see," he said, impressed. His erection was going away: this relieved him.
"So to be free of sin, forget what you know, I say. Changing the subject for a moment, you really should have drunk more of my come, Father."
"Why would I want to do such a filthy thing?"
"Because my come has, well, special ingredients in it."
"What special ingredients?"
"Let's just call them 'the sons of God'."
Alarmed, he asked, "What do you mean?"
"The Spirit," she said. "'The letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.'"
"Don't blaspheme, Camilla." He was getting angry.
"Really. Something divine came down from heaven, got on the grass, then I masturbated and came on the grass; and the sons of God went up my pussy."
"What is this nonsense you're talking about?" His voice was getting louder. "I don't want to slap you, Camilla, but I will if you continue to speak blasphemies!"
"Really; it's given me special powers. Let me demonstrate." She closed her eyes, and visualized his cock getting hard. Indeed, within seconds, his limp dick slowly became erect again. "Remember Mass? That was me giving you pleasure." She giggled lewdly.
"Camilla, stop that--now!"
Turning off the Nigrovum, she whined, "You're no fun, Father." She pouted like a spoiled little girl.
"You've been tampering with the spirit world, and I don't mean the Holy Spirit. Camilla, that's a Satanic power you have. You must be rid of it. Let me help you...let me help you save your soul by finding Jesus."
"Father, I'm already a Catholic."
"Believing in Christ isn't just about being born a Catholic; one must
live
the faith. Let me help you."
"OK," she said. "On one condition."
"What's that?"
"Sleep with me."
"Oh, Camilla, you know I--"
"You know you
want
to," she said, looking intensely in his eyes and visualizing the rose touching his heart. "'He who doesn't love doesn't know God, for God is love.' So love me."
Resisting her psychic powers, he corrected, "Camilla, St. John wasn't referring to
that
kind of love in his epistle. God is
agape
."
"Agape's my Daddy's name," she said, grinning like a little girl. "He's such a sweet man. Anyway, Father, if you don't wanna fuck me tonight, take me out to dinner sometime. The sex can come later."
"Dinner with you?" he asked. "Now that I can do. I'd better go now, though. Gotta get ready for Mass tomorrow. Will you be there?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Great. Goodnight, Camilla." He took her hand and kissed it.
She giggled and said, "Goodnight, Father. See you in church."