Content warning: this story mixes religious and erotic aspects. Please don’t read on if this can offend you. No priests or panties have been harmed while writing.
The tall, heavy, wooden church door creaked. Faith’s eyes darted over her shoulder, then tried to peer into the darkness ahead. No one saw her entering the church. As the squeaky door slowly swung shut behind her, she stood still, waiting for her eyes to adjust to low light. Silence enveloped her.
From the antechamber she took a couple of steps closer to the open door leading to the nave of the church. With little daylight left, the inside of the church was shrouded in twilight. Candles burning on the other side of the church’s nave did their best to dissipate the increasing darkness. A sound in the shadows caused Faith to take a silent step back, hiding in the darkness.
Then she saw him.
The priest. The new priest. Young and handsome. He’d only been here for about two months now, and ever since Faith saw him when he delivered his second homily, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. It was a sin, she knew it, dreaming sexy things about the priest. Not only at night, but also daydreaming. Faith had gone to church more in the past two months than in the year before that.
Today, on this middle day of the week, an invisible force had pulled her to this giant, ancient building.
Faith let out a longing sigh. Her heart skipped a beat when the priest stopped what he was doing and turned around to look at the door. Quietly she took another step back, hoping he wouldn’t see her. She abruptly turned around when he approached, and pushed down the first door handle she felt in her hands. The door swung open quietly, and she quickly closed it behind her. A soft light overhead revealed stairs in front of her. Faith realized those must be the stairs leading to the gallery where the choir sang from every Sunday. She quickly darted up the steps, as silently as possible.
Slowly she approached the railing of the gallery. Faith kept to the shadows, looking down on the pews below. The priest was nowhere to be seen, but only for a couple of moments. He returned to the front of the church, busying himself with the candles again. Faith couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but her eyes followed every movement.
She tuned into her daydreams…
He pushes her down in a chair. She sits down, her legs firmly held together, her feet elegantly placed next to each other. Looking up at him, she offers him her lips, which he gently brushes with his own, his hand resting on her knees. Gently he parted her knees, as far as they would go. He runs his fingers up her thighs, pushing her skirt up, until her white panties shows him her precious core.
The priest kneels; presses his face in her crotch, inhaling her scent. Faith sits still, not wanting these moments to end. She leans back and closes her eyes when his fingers, one from each hand, slipped under the elastic of her panties, caressing her plump flesh. A moan almost escapes her lips when he pulls her panties to the side with one hand, then runs a finger through her slit. Her fluids accompany his finger to that bundle of nerves begging to be touched.
“Look at me,” the priest says, and Faith obeys. He slips a finger inside her cunt, and she closes her eyes. Sighs. Moans. “Open your eyes,” he commands, and yet again she submits to his wish. His fingers circles her clit. Softly. Slowly. Deliberately. Keeping her on the edge. Evoking an intense, burning desire in her loins, but not giving her what she craves.
Faith opened her eyes, immediately resting them on the back of the priest again. Her hand was in her underwear, fingers dipping in and out of her wetness; occasionally circling her clitoris. She looked around with guilt written all over her face. Here she was, in a sacred place, pleasuring herself.
She told herself she wanted to stop, but she couldn’t. She really wanted to, but she was too far gone. Faith’s hand had a mind of its own. A fantasy to fulfill. She pulled her hands from her panties, hooked her thumbs on either side of the tiny garment and wiggled her bottom to pull it down. Faith pushed it down over her knees, towards her ankles, and kicked it off.
Once more she spread her legs, her hands on her naked crotch. Her mind went back to her fantasy, while she kept a watchful eye on the priest, who now walked down the left aisle of the church with a stack of papers. He put it down on one of the tables in the aisle, returned to the front of the church and repeated his actions in the aisle on the right.
All the time Faith’s eyes were on him; her fingers rolling and stretching and pinching her labia, reigniting the fire of moments before. Once more she fingered herself, burying three fingers in her cunt, while two others furiously rubbed her clit. Faith leaned back against the unforgiving hard backrest of the pew, allowing the priest to disappear from her sight. She had to quench this fire. Now.
Her head rolled from side to side. She panted, her mouth open; eyes closed. Her orgasm was close. The bit her lip hard, and tried even harder not to moan. Her breathing sounded loud in her own ears. Somewhere below her she heard the grinding of a door, but she was beyond caring. She needed to come, and she needed to come… now!
Faith heard footsteps on the stairs, and instantly she was back in the present. Her heart pounded as she quickly dashed around the side of the pew towards the back of the gallery. She watched as the priest placed and arranged papers on a table in the far corner of the gallery. He turned towards her, and just as Faith thought he was staring directly at her — seeing her in the dark, he turned and walked back downstairs.
Her heart still pounding, she waited a few minutes, until she heard him down in the nave of the church again. Quickly she jumped up, made her way to the other side of the pew and down the stairs, and out the door into the antechamber. Just as she lay her hand on the handle of the tall creaky door to go outside, the priest spoke behind her.
Faith froze. Slowly she turned around.
“Ah,” he said, “it’s… Faith? Right?”
“Were you looking for something?”
Faith shook her head. She didn’t trust her voice right then.
“Just let me know if there’s anything I can help you with,” he said, now standing directly in front of her. He reached for the handle of the door, his hand lightly touching hers. She quickly pulled her hand back, thankful for the low light as she blushed deeply. The priest pulled and held the door open to Faith.
“Thank you,” Faith managed to say, in answer to his request, and slipped through the narrow opening, desperate to get away. Her cheeks burned, not only from being so close to him, but also because only when he suddenly spoke behind her, she remembered her panties were still on the gallery.
Maybe that was enough reason for her to go to confession?
© Rebel’s Notes
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