It was getting late (F/M)

**(If you are offended by literature containing, force or religious themes this may not be for you.)**

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It was getting late.

The full moon above, lighting your way.

You knew that you shouldn’t have been out, but you couldn’t resist.

Your journey was aimless and you had no goal in mind.

You just wanted to feel the cool breeze upon your skin after being locked down for so long.

As you stray further from your front door, you noticed the moon being shadowed.

As you lifted your gaze, you could see the rolling, dark clouds flickering in the distance.

They crept ever closer, blanketing the sky entirely above your head.

Then suddenly, you felt it.

The first drop of rain struck your cheek and ran down to your collar.

That first drop made you shiver, it was cool, yet refreshing.

Unlike the first drop, which made you smile, the many that followed after, made you run.

Your calm and casual stroll had now become a dash for shelter.

Seeing no lights on, and only strangers doorways to huddle in, you kept going.

The street ahead of you was empty, with no signs of life.

It was just you and the falling rain.

After turning a few corners, you found it, some shelter at last.

It wasn’t home, but it is somewhere that was open to everyone in need.

As you neared the gothic, towering church, you could feel the stone gargoyles watching you.

Looking beyond the spooky exterior, you threw yourself against the giant, heavy door.

After a little encouragement, the door finally gave way, allowing you to pass.

Once inside, you could see many rows of hard, wooden pews and an absence of life.

Unable to see anyone, you wanted to make yourself known and called out into the empty space.

For a time, all you could hear was the echo of your own voice coming back to you.

Finally, a door alongside the platform opened and a priest appeared.

He moved without making a sound, almost as if floating towards you along the ornate tile floor.

Unsure of what to say, you waited for him to break the silence.

After stopping in front of you, the priest broke the awkward silence.

“Have you come to confess your sins or just another in need of shelter from the storm outside?”

You could hear the hatred in his voice for those seeking only shelter and not enlightenment.

Not wanting to fall foul of anything, otherworldly, you stumbled over your words.

“I am here to confess…”

He didn’t sense your conviction, but he went along with it and raised his arm.

“Right this way…”

He would move towards the booth and open one side and take a seat.

As you took your own, you sat in silence, awkwardly, waiting for him to speak.

But speak, he would not.

Without him even speaking he held your attention, something was pulling you in.

Eventually, you remembered your words and let them escape your full lips.

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned. It has been months since my last confession.”

Even though you had said what he wanted to hear, he would do nothing but turn to face you.

Feeling his lingering gaze upon you, you felt a tingling between your thighs.

The yearning you felt deep within, made you feel guilty and sinful, but you couldn’t help it.

The priest tried to encourage you to speak more with a few simple words.

“Go on my child”

“We are all imperfect. Sin runs through our blood, like the rivers through the hills.”

Taking in his words, you felt at ease, but it didn’t stop the burning desires you felt within.

Unable to control yourself, your hand fell to your lap and your fingers traced the tingling inward.

Before you knew it, your fingers were fumbling for the button, followed by the zipper.

As you began to undress, you could feel the gaze of the priest, who was still watching you.

Just knowing that he was there and unflinching, made your body tingle even more.

As he didn’t say a word, you removed more clothes, tempting fate, pushing for him to react.

Finally, you thought.

He had moved, but not in the way that you had intended.

He left his side of the confessional and pulled your door wide open, exposing you.

Luckily, the Church was empty, it was just you and him.

Without a word being uttered, he would take hold of your naked body and cast you from the box.

Leaving your naked, full figure leaning against the pews, he would leave your side.

All you could hear was your own heavy breathing and the drum of your heart against your chest.

It wasn’t long until the priest returned, he had locked the doors, leaving you no escape.

Being alone and in front of someone so clean and holy made you squirm.

The priest stood close and his face soon changed.

His straight and unflinching holy manner melted away to reveal a deviant and wicked grin.

Before you were able to move he would grab your arm.

You didn’t resist and let him drag you to your knees.

He purposefully stood over you like a towering mountain, making sure you looked up to him.

You thought you knew what was about to happen, but surely not here… in church…

Finally, the priest raised his voice.

“If you will not confess, I will make you.”

Both of his hands swiftly came down and landed on your head, his fingers were like claws.

His grip was strong and he pulled you closer, guiding you by your head.

Finally, you noticed it, your eyes widened as you took note of the huge, priestly bulge.

While one hand controlled you, the other flicked open those dark trousers.

And finally, you were greeted by something you never thought you would ever see.

Swaying, in front of your very eyes, was the biggest and juiciest cock you had ever seen.

You wanted it. It was mesmerizing.

The way it looked was perfect, everything about it made you want to taste it.

As you stared, clearly fixated, the priest held you at bay, taunting you.

“You did not come to confess, you came to take, and that is a sin.”

“But I am here, and I can forgive you for your sins, but you must give to me… release.”

As he spoke, his cock twitched and bounced, the pink tip that was exposed oozing pre.

Within yourself, you could feel a blazing sinful desire, there was an opportunity and you took it.

Not needing to hear another word you wrapped your fingers around his gorgeous, meaty cock.

Feeling daring you peeled back his foreskin, exposing his glistening, pink helmet.

Now that you had started, you could not stop.

You lowered your hand over and over again, working that shaft, grabbing at it hard.

Each time you raised your hand to his tip, he oozed more for you, giving you something to taste.

Eventually, he would tire of just your hand and forced himself upon you.

Half of his thick and throbbing shaft was driven between your lips.

He howled out in pleasure as your lips wrapped tightly around his pulsing manhood.

His hands locked into place, grasping your head tightly as he powered forward.

He rammed his raging hard-on into the back of your throat, choking you and gagging.

His thrusts were unrelenting.

When he looked down over you, he could still see the fiery desire burning away inside.

Without the need for words, he’d tear your lips away from his erection.

His fingers knotted in your hair lifted you to your feet.

He pulled you away from the confessional and took you up onto the platform.

You could only sigh with relief, as the pews were empty.

He would finally release your hair but only so that he could manipulate your body.

You could feel his strong hands all over you.

He would grab, knead and squeeze every part of you, getting to know your body.

After having fully groped you, he would push you back onto the alter.

His hands grasped at your waist and pulled you to its edge, getting you into position.

Leaving your legs dangling from the edge of the alter he stepped in close.

You would feel a sharp stinging pain against your thighs as he slapped them both.

Now that he had you exactly where he wanted you, he’d move to stand between your thighs.

That huge cock was now so close, pressing and nudging up against your aching mound.

He would let it linger, just a little longer, to tease you.

And then it happened, finally!

He lowered his stance and lined himself up before thrusting, impaling you.

His hands pinned you down against the altar.

He was soon ravaging you, shoving himself deeper.

You could feel his girth, he stretched you, but you didn’t care, it felt heavenly.

With each thrust, he buried himself a little deeper inside of you.

He moaned out loudly.

And so did you.

The church was soon filled with the sound of sin.

But he didn’t seem to care and nor did you.

With each stab of that powerful, meaty spear, you felt yourself getting closer.

He didn’t stop, he only pushed deeper, sheathing himself inside of you.

His overpowering dominance set you ablaze inside like no other.

It was so wrong, yet it all felt so right.

Not letting up, he continued to burrow down into you, using you for his own sinful needs.

You couldn’t take it anymore, that enormous cock being stirred, thrust and buried inside of you.

It all became too much.

You pressed your head back against the alter and finally orgasmed uncontrollably.

Your release felt divine and euphoria quickly set in, leaving you feeling like you were floating.

As you relaxed, your juices were left to trickle over the edge of the altar and onto the floor.

While you bask in your afterglow, the priest looked over you, looking at the mess he had made.

His own eruption that had been built up for so long was now covering your nakedness.

Your thighs, heaving mound and even your chest were now soaked in a sticky, thick, white cum.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/l7upv5/it_was_getting_late_fm