EroticReverie

Faith Mary Francis

It's Sunday morning, and I'm in my most I love Jesus dress I can find. A modest floral print with a high neck , the hem falling nearly to my ankles, as I slip on a pair of white of white sandals. My toes painted a soft, "lady like" pink.  My long brunette hair is pinned back on both sides with little clips. My mother hands me a cashmere cardigan with silent distate for the rack that SHE gave me, as it presses against the fabric of my dress.

I take it without argument, slipping it on. Apparently the Lord is offended by big tits. Yet...he was supposed to have been the one that gave them to me...so..what the fuck was that about?

I've never understood any of it. I always questioned everything, which eventually I'd stopped, when I realized I was only making everyone whisper about a devil inside of me, a chink in the armor of their plan to preach without explanation, failing to let them teach while not ever having to answer to the curious minds of children and young adults. So, now I keep my mouth shut, as I have for a long time. It's just easier that way...and soon, I'll be out of my parents house, and be free. 

It was the first time I'd heard Father John fucking nut on the other side of the partition while I told him about my sin of letting Tommy Blair take my virginity in his basement.  That's when I knew it was all a lie, all just a show. That's when I knew, I wanted to fuck Father John Matthias. If I was going to be forced into pretending to believe in God, then I'd at least have fun while doing it. 

At first, it was just a conquest, and shit it had been so fucking easy. When I'd whispered through the partition , telling him that I get wet all the time....my thoughts terribly impure..constantly thinking about touching myself...about touching men...

"I'm touching myself right now Father..." I'd told him, and let out a soft moan. 

"do you want to watch me touch myself?" I'd whispered when he hadnt answered, but I could hear the jerking of his hand on his dick, a soft huff of his breath as he tried not to groan.

"I want you to watch me Father...watch me sin." 

A few seconds later, he'd slid open the screen between us and I remember the thrill at that moment, turning, angling myself into the corner of the bench and lifting my foot to the bench and spreading my legs for him to watch. 

"It feels so good" I'd moaned as his shoulder moved, and his eyes focused on the wet pussy before him. 

"I like you watching me....i like you watching me touch myself" I admitted as I sunk a finger inside of myself, listening to him groan. 

"I want you....I want you to have sex with me Father...I want you to be inside of me....fucking me" 

Our first time, happened minutes later, when he'd directed me to go to the back of the church, to the office. I'd followed orders, going there while he righted himself and stripped myself down to nothing and pushed myself up on his desk. His eyes had gone wide and he quickly shut and locked the door behind him. 

There was a lot of hesitation, for several minutes as he watched me rub my clit and finger myself and tell him how I needed him to have me. A lot of "I shouldnt do this" "We shouldnt do this" "You're too young" "This isnt right" etc. 

But nothing he could tell himself stopped him from dropping his pants and putting his dick inside of me, and fucking me right there on his desk, then again soon after on the floor, from behind, muttering to God for forgiveness as he emptied into me a second time. 

My parents don't believe in birth control. Because they're idiots. But thankfully, Father John Matthias believes in it,....well...at least when it serves his transgressions. Which in this case, it very much does. 

He'd gone to a drug store, far out of town, and purchased a Plan B....and has been ordering me birth control through the mail, ever since we started having sex. 

It was easy for me to commit to Father John, to promise him I wouldnt sleep with anyone else while fucking him. Because....it was hot....having a secret affair with a man who was married to fucking church. But then....it didnt take long, for it to become more than just a hot secret. I was an idiot....that went and fell for him. Even though I knew he could never be with me publicly. But I didnt care. I fell in love with a god fearing pervert that screwed sixteen year old girls. I should be disgusted by him now that Im a few years older, but i'm not. I was quite the little hussy at that time, and Father John was a celibate....well...mostly celibate man for almost two decades. Who is really going to turn a slightly underage girl that's pretty much begging to be fucked? 

I drive my car, my parents drive theirs, as we make our way to church. I park around the back of building like always, and make my way around as I greet other people along the way. Taking compliments from older women, on their love for my dress, telling me how beautiful I look while their husbands avoid the abominations on my chest like the plague. There were PLENTY of women there with big tits. But it was the fact mine were eighteen, that made it hard for them to pretend they didnt want to fucking stare at them. No matter how brief their eyes flick to them, I always see it. Perverts. All here to act like they're good people, when none of them are. Try as we may, we're all bad in one way or another. 

I slip into the front row where my parents always sit, as the churches top donations, it's like some fucking unspoken VIP seating for them, that everyone just knows , not to sit in. I take a seat, turning slightly, to speak to the family that always sits behind us. A woman in her thirties, a male in his forties, with three children under the age of ten. They're actually really nice...but so is John...so I wonder what secrets they keep locked up behind closed doors.

My parents come, waving to everyone, shaking hands as if they are royalty, as if this is actually THIER church. I fight the roll of my eyes and turn and face the front. 

I cross one leg over the other, bobbing my foot at the ankle as I smile politely at the smile choir, a few of them nodding to me. A girl my age stands at the top, beaming at me. Clarissa. If that girl ever touches herself, it'll probably only be to men who look like Jesus. She's got a total lady boner for the Lord. She doesnt just believe and have faith, she fucking BELIEVES. It's terrifying. I smile politely back and give a small wave, and wonder what the hell she'd do if she found out her precious Preist has been drilling my pussy for two years. I smile even wider at the thought, and then look to my parents as they finally make their way to the pew, and I slide down.

The choir sings a short hymn, and out walks in the full Sunday getup. My pussy dripping at the sight of it. Is it hot? Hell no. It's only hot because he looks Holy as fuck and I know he's not. It's hot because in a few hours, I'm going to have his dick buried inside of me again. I squirm in my seat biting the inside of my lip, his eyes falling over the church as he nods and walks to the stand where he speaks, his eyes making it to me, and my lips part as I exhale. He barely shows it, but I see the faintest smile on his lip when he notices that exhale. He knows exactly what it does to me to have to sit here and look at him and listen to him wearing that shit. He's wearing the long white alb, the Maniple over his left arm, the stole around his neck, and the Chesbule. The Chesbule he let me wear two weeks ago when he fucked me in his office. 

He could just wear his plain black shirt and pants, and black robe with his hot little fucking clerical collar, but no....my parents....being the overboard god fearincg Christians they are, spent thousands of fucking dollars, havin that outfit made, the golden detail on tacky as fuck, but ...still...got my fucking pussy wet. If only my parents knew their investment got their daughter horny as hell for the Priest. 

I don't listen to a single fucking word that's said, my mouth moving to sing along to words that come as easy as breathing as we sing along with the random hymns of the choir. All I think about the entire time, is the man under those fucking ridiculous clothes. I imagine, what I always imagine, him calling me onto the steps and bending me over the altar and fucking my god damn brains out in front of the entire church. I shift in my seat, the movement causing his eyes to drift to me and I lick my lips. Not seductively, just lick them. LEtting him fucking know, that it's ON. That I'm going to fuck him to kingdom fucking come when this shit is all over.