No

That touch was a bridge too far, even the girl on the screen has not let the man do such things and such pleasures were sinful. You reason that pleasing the men is pleasing for them but you should not allow them to please you. You can feel a level of righteous determination wash over you, the Lord is working through you for reasons you could never comprehend and every fibre of your being knows it is wrong. You drop your skirts and tunic and clearly state.

"No."

"Fine toots, your loss. I have magic fingers."

His hand withdraws from the hole and is rapidly replaced by on oddly more comforting semi-swollen penis. Moving the chair back into place and taking a seat before returning your lips around his shaft, working him once again with your mouth, feeling his manhood grow harder with each suckle and lick. Head sliding back and forth as his cooing moaning encouragement returns before suddenly he grunts loudly and you are given a second load of man cream in your mouth.

His gift fires into the back of your throat forcing you to gag and splutter as you retreat off his pulsing shaft. Coughing it up over him and over yourself, looking down at the mess down the front of your habit, the white cum contrasting against the black tunic. His shaft starts to withdraw and then surges back forward almost bouncing off your forehead as he says.