Sinful fires

You sit on the chair, globules of slowly drying semen adhered to your face, your robes of the order now undeniably stained with the joy of man; but surely the Lord will now give you a sign of his will? You have done what he asked and all you seek is more divine guidance but the only sounds you can here are the television, your eyes gravitating across the the flickering screen.

You watch as a pretty young girl not entirely dissimilar to yourself moans and pants. Her back against the wall with a leg cocked at an angle to give you a view of the manhood sliding back and forth, in and out of her. You want to look away but feel compelled by the image. The bliss on her face. A bliss that you now know. The burning in your loins grows stronger, you wriggle on the chair and your legs **** themselves together as your body twists and writhes against the chair but it is not enough.

You pull your skirts up again around your waist, holding them there with one hand whilst the other slips into the sodden mass of pubic hair. Your fingers exploring your womanhood unlike any time before, trying to duplicate what the last man did. It feels good as your fingertips slide between your lips, up and down and then a little further up. You shudder as your fingers roll over a small hardened mound. You press the little button again, twisting and squeezing it as your body convulses in pleasure.

Your feet perch on the edge of the chair, freeing up your other hand which quickly slides against your aching kitty. As the fingers on one hand stroke your clit your index finger of the other easily glides inside you. You push yourself in deeper until your back arches and you struggle to remain sitting. You shake, shudder, cry and moan. In that moment you feel a loving warmth spread all throughout your body, a body that for a moment almost does not seem your own. It is a religious experience. Is all of this the will of God or the Devilish temptations of the flesh? Either way it feels good.