She was on her laptop when she heard the keys jingle from the other side of the door. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her eyes locked onto the doorknob as it twisted. Immediately, she closed her computer and raced towards the door. She checked her hair and makeup frantically in the mirror before dropping down to her knees. 

The door swung open and she kept her eyes locked onto the carpet in front of her folded knees, but the butterflies were already stirring in the pit of her stomach. She heard the hard bottoms of his shoes click against the tile as he approached her. 

"How was your day at work, Sir?" she said in a quiet voice.

He leaned down next to her ear and whispered in a husky voice, pausing between each word, "Long, hard… and frustrating."

A blush spread across her cheeks and she fidgeted with her dress, pulling it down over her thighs. He tilted her chin up so that she was looking at him as he smirked at her; he thought it amusing that after all this time, she was still nervous around him. His fingers trailed down her neck to the pink collar fastened tight around it. He looped two of his fingers through the silver ring at the front of it and pulled her up to her feet. He pressed his lips against hers and kissed her slowly; he could feel her body grow rigid at first and then melt against his caress. 

"I’m going to need you to put on something a little nicer," he mumbled against her lips. "I’m taking you to church this afternoon."

He pulled a strand of her hair playfully and chuckled at her confused expression before walking to the bar across the room. He made himself a drink and slouched down on the couch with his legs spread.

"Go on."

They entered the cathedral side by side. Her red heels clicked against the tile as they passed pew after pew. There were masses of candles positioned all around, their light flickering against the huge, monumental works of stained glass. She felt her breath escape her as she took in the intense beauty of the building. She looked up at the high vaulted ceilings and almost became dizzied trying to make out the elaborate paintings that stretched from wall to wall. She wasn’t sure why Sir had brought her here, and there were knots of nerves twisting in her stomach; It had been such a long time since she was in a church - and never one quite like this. 

He picked a pew towards the back and ushered her in before himself so that he was seated near the aisle. She sat down and fixed her floral print dress, trying to pull it up over her cleavage. He leaned back against the wooden bench and watched her; he could tell that her old religious guilt was really getting to her, and at this, he smiled to himself. The choir began to sing and everyone rose with a hymnal in hand. However, he remained seated and pulled at the back of her dress as she began to automatically stand with the crowd. She took the hint and sat back down quickly, looking at him, confused. 

He kicked her heels apart with one of his dress shoes and slid his hand along the inside of her stocking clad thighs. Her face flashed red with embarrassment as she realized why she had been brought to church this afternoon, and her thighs pressed together against his intruding hand. 

"Sir!" she whispered frantically.

He ignored her plea as his hand forced its way up to her sex and stroked persistently at the outside of her panties.

He looked up from her legs to meet her eyes in mock-horror. ”A lace thong? In the house of our Lord? You harlot.”

She squirmed in protest, and her eyes darted around with paranoia. 

"Shh, shh, shh," he whispered against her neck. The choir at the front was singing in an angelic tone as the crowd joined in at different octaves. He pressed his fingertips against her slit through the thin fabric, and nudged her clit in small circles. She was already getting wet. 

Her mannerisms changed as her pussy began to moisten with desire. Her body knew its master, and it obeyed. He watched as her eyes would close for a few seconds at a time, and he observed the rise and fall of her bosoms beneath her low-cut dress. She was beautiful. The glow of pleasure was all about her as she submitted to his public desires. 

The choir ceased for the afternoon’s mass and everyone took their seats once more as the sermon began. The cathedral went silent except for the priest and his words of salvation. With fingers still pressing against the front of her sex, the girl tried to at least pretend she was paying attention. That, however, proved difficult as her Sir’s fingers shoved the lace fabric to one side and dove into her dripping hole. Her cunt squeezed around his fingers and she bit her lip trying not to make a sound. He finger fucked her slowly, twisting his fingers and gliding in and out of her repeatedly. He caressed the flat of his thumb against her clit and flicked it up and down as his fingers worked inside her, doubling her sensation and driving her mad.

She squirmed slightly in her seat, her cheeks pink with both desire and embarrassment. 

He pressed his stubbly cheek against hers before hissing in her ear in a low voice, “How does this make you feel, girl? How does it feel to be someone’s whore in a place of worship? To be… dripping on the very seat that people sit on to pray to their God?”

Her eyes fluttered open to look up at him, his hands still moving between her legs. She replied to him in a breathy and hushed tone “So…good, Sir.”

His eyes twinkled at her response and he could feel himself stiffen in his dress pants. If he had it his way, he would bend her over one of these pews and fuck her from behind while the congregation carried on. Hell, he’d fuck her in the aisle, on the altar, or even slam into her as she clung to the crucifix at the front of the church. Although, he was in no mood to get arrested. He discreetly pulled at the front of his pants with his free hand and growled. 

After minutes of torturous twisting, pinching, prodding, and flicking, the girl was practically sitting in a puddle of her own desire. She had lost track of everything, and she became unashamed in the heat of passion. She was now more concerned with the fact that she had been edged towards the point of orgasm for nearly half an hour without relief. She was, of course, fearful of that release in such a public place, but damn…she needed it. 

The priest began to sum up his sermon, and the girl exhaled. Perhaps her torture was finally coming to an end. 

"Do you know if you have God inside you today? At this very moment?" said the priest.

Sir nipped at her ear, “Do you have God inside you, girl?” he said, curling his fingers up against her G-spot and pressing down.

She whimpered very quietly and bit at her lower lip. 

"Answer me," growled Sir. 

"I do, Sir."

The preacher continued, “Would you like God to come inside you?”

Sir breathed heavily against her ear, “Do you want God to cum inside you, girl?”

She pushed her ass against the back of the pew and tried to settle her squirms. “Ahhmn, yeah,” she moaned out. 

The priest paused for a moment and an intense quiet settled over the people, making every movement beneath her skirt seem painfully noticeable. For a few seconds they could both hear how wet her cunt was, as if it was audibly sucking on his fingers for release. 

After the dramatic pause the priest ended with a statement, “To receive salvation, one must simply be open to it. Thank you for coming today. We shall end with a song in closing.”

The choir took their places and sang a beautiful Latin hymnal, much in the style of a Gregorian chant. 

Sir breathed heavily in the girl’s ear, “Are you open to salvation, girl? Do you want it?”

She moaned raggedly, “I want it, Sir.”

"How badly do you want it? Show me, impress me, you filthy slut."

The heat between her legs as he stroked her G-spot mercilessly pushed her to a point of no return as she moaned aloud. 

"Louder," he mumbled.

Her legs were trembling from the need to cum, and her cunt was steadily dripping onto the pew. She swallowed hard and moaned louder causing a few heads to turn from their hymn books.

"Good girl, you may cum when the song ends."

She was panting, shaking, and perspiration began to form between the crevice of her breasts. He couldn’t make this easy, she had to cum quickly before they all started turning towards them to leave out of the doors. She had to be stealthy and quiet, for there would be no song to cover the groans of her passion. She was frightened, paranoid, and absolutely twisting with sinful desire. 

Her eyes widened as the song came to an end, she was ready. She was so ready as he massaged her G-spot in fast tiny circles. She came hard and immediately bit down on her lip to stop from crying out as the juices from her cunt came forth and all but drenched the pew of which they sat. Her hands clutched at the edge of her seat and her legs shook with abandon. She couldn’t stop. People were getting up and turning towards them and she couldn’t stop. She started to panic, and her pussy was still throbbing. She was whimpering and moaning, rocking back and forth. Her teeth tore into her bottom lip and drew droplets of blood in an attempt at silence.

Sir put an arm over her shoulders and leaned over her so that it looked as if she were deep in prayer as the congregation began to make their exit right next to them.

"That’s my girl," he kissed behind her ear as her body started to relax.

She put her elbows on her knees and leaned over, trying to catch her breath as he finally withdrew his fingers. He brought them up to his lips and sucked them clean, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt his member pulse against the harsh zipper of his slacks. She was delicious.

"Now," he said looking down at her flushed face and scattered locks of hair, "It’s time for confessional."