Devotion

The towel fluttered to the ground. Father Mathew stood stark naked in front of the elegantly dressed woman who, to make matters worse, had his crown jewels in her grasp. How could it have gone this far? He urgently needed to escape from this compromising situation. As he abhorred physical **** and, following the scriptures, preferred to turn the other cheek in an argument, he pulled out his sharpest weapon: the word.

“What do you... hn-g.”

As soon as he started to speak, she suddenly increased the pressure on his sensitive balls. He had to realize that he had lost the fight before it had even really begun.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” she chided him, “you've had your chance to talk. Now it's my turn. Let me show you what else you can use a tongue for.”

She squatted down and beguilingly looked up at him as she opened her mouth. It was obvious even to him what she was up to. He had read and heard about it. In the light of church doctrine, oral sex within marriage was acceptable as long as it supported the marital union and remained open to the creation of new life. However, he had to criticize any act that deliberately excluded the possibility of procreation. Outside of marriage, of course, or in a context that did not reflect a commitment to life, this form of sexual activity contradicted God's plan, according to his belief.

The stranger leaned forward and let his cock enter her oral cavity, licking its sensitive underside at the same time.

“Uh-oooh.”

Mathew no longer knew what to think or feel. He gasped loudly, rolled his eyes and straightened his knees to prevent himself from falling over. He could never have imagined what this tongue was doing to him. It sucked and smacked, lapped and slurped, swirled and teased. A firework of endorphins ignited in his brain.

He, who had never had sex with another person in his life, was an easy victim for the experienced seductress. A compliant one at that. Sensations of pure bliss flooded him and erased all critical thinking. At that moment, he was little more than a bundle of male instincts and urges. Subconsciously, he grabbed his playmate's head with both hands and buried his fingers in her curls. Following a genetic program, he pushed his hips forward.

She willingly took him in, letting his hard, veiny cock slide down her throat. She pushed him to the peak of pleasure at lightning speed, only to stop him in the nick of time and deny him his reward. Her tongue, her lips, her hands worked in perfect harmony to show him what pleasure she could give him - or deny him.

Countless times she had brought him to the point where he thought he would finally be allowed to cum. But fulfillment remained out of his reach. Time stretched out to infinity and the world disappeared.

Instead of leading him to his ultimate destination, she suddenly let go of him, rose smoothly and took a few steps back. Mathew slumped like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Breathing heavily, he sank to the carpet in a heap of misery.

She laughed happily, fresh and cheerful, as if nothing had happened.

“We'll meet again. I'll be waiting for you in the sacristy tomorrow after eve mass.”

The statement could be interpreted as a threat or a promise. But there was no doubt that it would come true.