Sunday's Passion

From his vantage point in the booth, he could see she was going to have an easy time with this one. The fact they were even inside was a miracle in itself.

"Which altar would you prefer... his?" She unbuttoned her dress, exposing the flesh underneath, "or mine?"

The young priest's hands went to his mouth, stifling a gasp.

In the booth, a zipper came down.

"Are.. are you crazy? This is a church, for Chri – I mean, this is the hous –"

"—of God. I know, I know. He doesn't have many bedrooms does he. We're just going to have to do it right here by the pulpit."

She laid her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"My flesh is your flesh," she said, pushing him down. "Now, eat."

The priest looked up at her, on his knees as if in prayer before an angel. Tears welled in his eyes behind his glasses. In the booth, the watcher thought of Christ in the garden of Gethsemane praying furiously to let that cup pass him by. The irony wasn't lost on him as he slowly began jerking himself off.

She cupped his chin.

"Eat."

And then she pushed his sandy blonde head onto her cunt. Any prayer he may have offered was lost between her lips, his tongue snaking into her to taste her fruits.

In the booth, the watcher stroked his cock a little faster, the spectacle unfolding before him beyond anything he could have predicted.

Her head was thrown back now. Her long black hair swaying with the priest's hungry lappings. "Been a... long... time... hasn't it?" He gripped her hips in response, burying his face into her, his nose, his lips, the stubble of his well-groomed beard tickling and bucking against her. It was all she could do to stand.

"Fuck... Jesus... FUCK!" She gripped his head, pulling his hair, pushing him away. "You despicable shit. It's not your station to make me cum. I can do that without you. This is about you. I'm going to show you Heaven. Lie down."

Like a well-trained dog, he did just that. She descended upon his crotch with the fury of a demon, tearing his pants down to expose his modestly sized cock, engorged with morning sin.

"You can look, but don't touch. Hands behind your head, asshole."

Again, he displayed cultured servility, as if she spoke the words of God himself.

She traced her fingertips along his shaft.. up and down, slowly. She licked a finger and traced around the head of his cock, leaving it wet. It throbbed on her palm. She unbuttoned the rest of her dress and let if fall to the floor, her pert breasts bobbing slightly as she straddled his chest.

"How long's it been, little priest?"

"S-s-se-eminary."

"She reached behind herself and pushed his cock petween her ass cheeks, her hand forming an enclosure. She slid up and down slowly.

"You were popular with the nuns. I can tell. You give head like you've been taught."

He nodded.

"Sprung." She smiled as she rocked a little harder. She felt the head of his cock against the small of her back.

"You want to fuck me don't you? I've seen you watching me. Say it."

"I.. I want –"

"To. Fuck. Me."

"I want.. to.. fu-.." His lips quivered," FUCK you. I want to... FUCK you."

"Well, we'll see about that."

She lowered herself down his body, taking his cock between her tits. She pressed them together and began fucking him with those twin peaks of desire.

"Oh... GOD!"

In the booth, the watcher was close to coming. He loved seeing her titty fuck. He loved watching her back arch as she rubbed back and forth. He loved watching her prey's eyes roll back, their mouth open, sometimes drool running down their cheeks. Most of all, he loved her. Her eyes. Her complete and utter control.

Even now, it wasn't his hand bringing himself to climax. It was her. Her will through his hands. When he sprayed the booth door with his seed, it was her lips at his, her fingers in his cum. Her fingers in his mouth. Not long for the priest now either. Soon it would be his turn. He zipped up and took the rope and handcuffs from the handbag near his feet.

"You know you'll have to confess this."

Her only reply was a whimper as her mouth closed about his cock. She engulfed it, licking it into her mouth. Her fingers juggled his balls, gently kneading and pulling. Her free hand reached between her own legs to rub at the tender moistness there.

She wanted another cock inside her right there and then and the thought sent a wave of heat between her legs. As if in answer to prayer, he appeared, standing behind the priest's head. The priest, oblivious, lost in the lustful garden of her mouth, only noticed something amiss when the handcuffs snapped about his wrist.

"Hey!"

Another snap.

"Shut up. Nobody fucks my wife. Nobody comes unto her except through me. To paraphrase."

The priest could barely utter another cry as the gag was forced into his mouth by nimble, strong hands.

"Do his feet, baby."

He tossed the rope to her. "He was almost ready to come," she pouted.

"I know, babydoll. And he will. But you first."

She smiled as she tightened the rope around the priest's ankles. His eyes were wide, his glasses slightly askew on his nose. His robes were a crumpled mess, feathered out around him like broken wings.

"This is how my wife likes to be fucked," said the watcher, no longer watching. She unzipped his pants, drawing them down and off. His cock bulged behind his shorts, newly awakened by her hands down there. They kissed, deeply, his hands enfolding her in a hungry embrace. She stroked him up and down, pleading with her eyes.

"Yes."

He took her hands, bending her over against a pew. His shorts came down and his member sprang free, disappearing into her wet cunt. She groaned in ecstasy as he took her like this, his hands on her sides pulling her onto him with each thrust. His balls slapped into her cunt as he straddled, fucking her like an animal. The priest's own hard-on waved in the air as he struggled against his bonds.

"What.. about... him?" she moaned. "I.. want.. his cock.. in my.. mouth.."

Obliging, he withdrew and picked her up. He lowered her back over the priest, reverse this time so he could enter her above the priest's head.

"Get a good look, priest. This is Heaven."

She parted her legs above the priest's face as she slid her mouth down his shaft once more. Her husband resumed fucking her, feverishly, relishing the audience. She was filled, her mouth and her cunt, filled with desire and passion. It wasn't long before he felt her contracting against his cock, the orgasm welling within and through her like the holy ghost at Pentacost.

He continued to pump, feeling her spasm, the sudden tightness gripping his cock. He gasped as his load blasted into her, welling up from behind his balls, shooting along his shaft and exploding inside her, anointing the walls of her cunt, his semen hot with divine blessing. He pulled out, dripping some stray cum onto the priest's glasses.

"Let's finish him together."

He joined her at his cock, working his tongue up and down the priest's shaft as she teased his cockhead inside her mouth. They alternated, and it wasn't long before his hips began bucking with the impending force of the release that was to come.

"Oh, anoint me with fresh oil, little priest!" She squealed as the first spurt shot from his cock onto her lips. Another, this time shooting up his stomach, leaving a white trail along his body. And another, jerk and spurt, shooting up over his shoulder. He muffled a groan behind his gag before closing his eyes in post-orgasmic bliss. His legs shuddered.

"Well, looks like that was a load off," he said, "I trust you'll no longer look at my wife with lust in your heart from this juncture onward."

"Especially once your congregation arrives."

The reality of where the priest was slammed into him like a battering ram. His erection melted away as he realized he was bound on the pulpit of his church, his cum cooling on his body. His face reddened.

She hurried back from the confessional booth, buttoning her dress. She reached into her handbag and withdrew a key. She handed it to her husband, clothed again in his Sunday's best.

"Use the spirit as your guide," he said, tossing the key casually over his shoulder into the pews behind. "Maybe one of your altar boys will find it and be kind enough to remove your restraints. Or maybe not. I'm sure this morning's sermon will be interesting, but we can't stick around, darling."

"That's right. Busy day today."

"God bless, little priest."

They turned and walked down the center of the church. The sun cast golden and red shades through the stained glass of virgins and disciples kneeling. The passion of Christ played out in shards of colour and light. The priest's muffled sobs echoed around the emptiness.

As they walked along the path he noticed something glimmering on her cheek. An old lady hurried by, eager to wash away the sins of her week. The gossip. The backbiting. He touched her cheek and collected the priest's semen on his finger. She grinned demurely as he inserted it in her mouth.

"Well! I never!" exclaimed another purpled haired woman, "It's just not decent! And on a Sunday!"

"Nothing's decent on a Sunday," he shot back, "Especially us."

They kissed there and then, as a shrill scream broke the heavy silence.

End.