Sofia had no time to catch her breath.
Fr. Jim Boyd’s semen was splattered on her neck and exposed breasts and was dripping on the floor of the confessional at Saint Andrew. And someone had just knocked on the door.
She had legitimately arrived that Saturday morning with the intention of only giving her confession and to be absolved of her many sins. But as was the case with her two priests, things escalated into the realm of lust and sexual satisfaction. Within moments of assigning her penance, Fr. Jim had slid open the weave screen window and pushed his impressive and dripping need into her face. Similar to many prayers, this was a penance he knew she would gladly invoke. After she had gasped, she began to give him a world-class fellatio session right there, with a handful of sinners waiting in the pews.
Unfortunately, the older man could not remain silent and grunted loudly when he released all over the beautiful thirty-year-old widow. She chastised herself for not swallowing, the knock having taken focus.
Mrs. Donner, a long-standing member of the parish, had heard the rhythmic vocalizing of a man near climax and approached the dark wooden booths. She had rapped lightly on the door, sending the two lovers inside into a frenzied scramble.
The old woman’s muffled voice sounded falsely concerned and more interested in gossip. “Are you alright, Father?”
After a moment, she lifted her hand to knock again when the priest’s side door opened just a crack. His face was glowing red, but attempting concern. “Mrs. Donner? What is it? I am hearing confession.”
The older woman turned scarlet with embarrassment and looked down. “Oh, Father! Please forgive me. I heard, well, a grunting noise, and I was concerned for… pardon me, I am so sorry.”
She scurried away like a scared rabbit. Fr. Jim closed the door quickly and slumped into his seat with a huge sigh of relief.
He looked across the way and was stunned to see his fellow church employee had vanished. Neither he nor the curious Mrs. Donner had noticed the younger woman slipping out and rushing away down the nearby hall that led to the rectory exit.
Sofia had made her escape virtually unnoticed by the prayerfully penitent while the well-meaning older woman was talking to the senior pastor.
She made it to her office, unseen by anyone, or so she hoped. Once inside the closed door, she was able to expedite clean up using supplies she had in her cupboard. Hand towels and some baby wipes made quick work of the cum-tidying. She then looked in her mirror by the door and noted only one small drip on her blue blouse. It looked like something went astray at breakfast, so she decided to just leave it be. She then caught her eyes in her reflection, and she gave a deep sigh.
“You are doing the Lord’s work. The pleasure is your reward.”
Later at home, she was preparing the laundry and had sprayed the spot on her blouse. She had a wicked thrill when she thought about leaving it to remind her of the pleasures she was blessed with. She also noted that the two men had vey different taste to their spend. Fr. Jim had a bitter lean to his, probably because he drank periodically. Timothy's semen had a sweet note to the saltiness that - Oh dear! Father Timothy! She admonished herself for the accidental personalization and vowed to be more duty-bound. The phone ringing startled her.
It was Fr. Jim.
"Sorry to disturb you at home, my dear. But I wanted to let you know of a change in the week's schedule before tomorrow."
"Oh, no problem, Father. Let me write this down."
"Uh, I'd rather you not." He paused, and she had an inkling as to why. "You see, Bishop Mohan is visiting from Tuesday to Wednesday and will be staying in the Rectory. I wanted to clear some time for a meeting with Fr. O'Brien and myself, as well as reschedule our...personal time." The last was said quieter as if Mrs. Donner were still about.
"Of course. We had Wednesday morning set aside. Shall we move it to Thursday?"
He shook his head slightly, marveling at the nonchalant, almost businesslike way she discussed their sexual sessions. It made his heart pump faster, and his privates tighten. "Well, I had something else in mind. What are you doing Tuesday evening? His Excellency would like to meet you, of course, and we were hoping you could be our guest. For dinner, that is."
Sofia blushed, and her voice dropped in volume and pitch. It was as close to sultry as she allowed herself to get. "Oh...I see. Do you feel it is safe to —. With all due respect to Bishop Mohan—can he be trusted to be brought in to our circle of sin?"
"Remarkable,” the priest whispered. "He can. Because he already knows. I, uh, I accidentally told him." She gasped, and he rapidly explained. "You see, he and I have enjoyed some time together with some other female members of the diocese, and well...he offered to have someone come by Tuesday, and I told him it was unnecessary. I am sorry."
Sofia's silence signaled her struggle with the new information. This changed things yet did not entirely prophesy doom. "That will be fine. I live to serve." Fr. James Boyd sighed with a deep moan. "But please Father, do me the courtesy of asking ahead of time if you wish for this to expand. If there is nothing else, I will see you tomorrow."
"Certainly. I respect and admire your service. No, nothing else. Thank you, my child. Good night."
Hours later, Sofia's session with her hairbrush brought about numerous peaks as she imagined herself with the two men.
***
Tuesday’s office air was heavy with expectation. Fr. Timothy knew of the dinner but would not be attending. It was his turn to administer communion to the residents at the Holy Oaks Convalescent Home. Sofia was disappointed. She liked him very much, and the last two times they had had intercourse were incredibly satisfying.
Having Fr. Jim enter her vagina was wonderful as well, and he said she was the "best he ever had," which of course meant he has had intercourse before. Sofia was shocked for a moment, but as he bent her over the desk and really drove in hard from behind, she forgot the concern and actually climaxed at the thought of her being his best. The sin of pride added to her stains.
Fr. Jim liked to fuck from behind, so he did not have to look in her eyes. It was less personal, he said. Sofia chuckled back in her office, cleaning up his ejaculate. "This could not be more personal."
Tuesday, Sofia found herself alone in the office for the majority of the day. The bishop and Fr. Jim had set out to visit a possible site for a new school and would be returning before dinner. Fr. Jim had told her to leave early so she could relax before dinner and the expected after-dinner activities.
She gladly accepted the gift of time as she had wickedly decided to wear something less office manager and more Church Whore. She had laid out the dress and new lingerie on her bed. "God forgive my indulgence," she said, naked on her knees post-shower, her fingers playing with her clitoris. She pulled off just before release overtook her. She wanted to wait yet feel primed, ready, willing.
At 6:30, she rang the bell to the residence entrance of the Rectory, and Mrs. Warrington, the cook, answered. They exchanged greetings, and Sofia hung her coat. The elderly widow appraised the younger widow with a knowing eye.
Oh dear, does she suspect? Sofia thought.
"You look lovely, Mrs. Sinkewicz. Far too dressed up for celibate men."
Sofia agreed to a point. Her gold and blue dress was tighter than her usual attire, although it still ended below her knees. The bodice was very kind to her ample bust and had just enough of a scoop of a neckline to hint at cleavage. Her husband's crucifix on her necklace seemed to point to something deliciously decadent. "Thank you, Mrs. Harrington. I rarely get asked to dinner, so I thought I might as well."
Celibate men...if she only knew.
"A pretty thing like you? You can't live as a nun forever. Go on in, they are in the sitting room."
Sofia blushed slightly, and the two headed in. The younger woman was confident that the cook was in the dark about her mission this evening, yet partially intrigued, she may know what a whore Sofia had become.
Both men had drinks and immediately rose to greet the women.
"Sofia! Splendid. You remember Bishop Mohan?"
Sofia took the bishop's large hand in hers and slightly curtsied as she said, "Excellency. An honor."
"The honor is mine," his bass voice purred. He took her hand close to his and kissed the top. It was a rather audacious gesture that surprised everyone else in the room. "Oh, relax, " the tall fifty-six-year-old said. "My mother was French and insisted all of her sons learn the proper way to greet a woman. Even the son was destined for a life in the priesthood."
The room laughed politely. Sofia blushed as her privates fluttered and gushed into her new underwear, knowing the man was anything but celibate.
Mrs. Harrington excused herself to put the meal on the table. Dinner was excellent, a pork roast with salad and delightfully robust au gratin potatoes. The chat was polite, and the bishop wanted to know about the church manager's life. He was genuinely sorry for the loss of her husband, yet she noted a hint of fire in his blue-grey eyes. She knew that having sex with her was on his mind, and her being a widow probably eased his conscience some.
He was a tall man, nearly six three, with rugged features and a neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard. His voice was low and soothing yet held authority. There was no wondering why he was a bishop.
After dinner, Mrs. Harrington cleaned up and then headed home. The three potential sex partners sat in the sitting room and discussed things with a refreshingly unburdened freedom.
"Sofia, as you know, I have informed His Excellency of your gift of service. He was quite surprised and immediately prayed for our souls.” Sofia's eyes went wide.
Bishop Mohan leaned forward. "It is a remarkable thing you have done, my child." His eyes burned and roamed up and down her form. Her nipples grew turgid in response, and she instinctively tightened her thigh press, wishing she had not worn pantyhose.
"That is very kind of you, Your Excellency. Strangely, I believe my sinning is in service to the Holy Spirit."
He laughed with a surprised delight. He shook his head in mild disbelief and adjusted his trousers. Sofia stole a glance and was happy to see a long shape stretching toward his left thigh. He then looked to Fr. Jim. "I would very much like to see her perform said service."
Sofia nodded and stood. "Of course. My honor, my blessing." She stepped toward the tall man, and he held up a hand.
"No. On Fr. Boyd. I want to assess your skills first. If I am going to sin with anyone, I want it to be of the highest quality."
She was suddenly self-conscious and concerned that she was unworthy of the man. Concern quickly led to awareness. This was a test, and she intended to pass it with flying colors. She took a deep breath and straightened her spine, her bust sticking out provocatively, her nipples straining the fabric. She turned to face Fr. Jim and reached behind to unzip her dress. It slid to the floor with a soft "whishhh", and she was revealed in a light blue matching bra and panties trimmed with lace. She cocked her hip, her arms akimbo, helping to create the look of a centerfold.
As she gracefully knelt before the priest on the couch, she heard the bishop let out a breathy whistle of appreciation. "Heaven's above..."
The soft praise spurred her on and made her heart rate accelerate. Many times before consuming one of the priest's phalluses, she would make the sign of the cross and thank the Lord. Lately, that practice had fallen off as her own sexual urgency became more of a mutual concern. With His Excellency present, it seemed to fit. She bowed her head and made the sign, whispered a prayer, and then kissed her crucifix.
Fr. Jim was truly taken by the perverted devotion. "Sweet Mother Mary."
Sofia ran both hands up his thighs, and the left gripped his heft through the black polyester blend. Her right deftly unbuckled and unzipped. Both hands gripped the waistlines of trousers and boxers, and with a nod to her pastoral lover, who lifted slightly, she slid them down to his ankles. The man's lovely, thick, six-inch member bounced slightly, a drop of preparatory lubricant landing on her thumb. She licked it off and moaned softly.
The priest was serious for a moment, holding her chin in his hand and locking eyes with her. He knew she needed ritual, to hear his blessing in order to do her best. And he needed her best very badly. "For what you are about to receive, may the Lord make you truly thankful."
No sooner had "Amen" crossed her lips than she was using them to suck the cockhead into her fiery, wet orifice. She began her favorite sexual act with scrotal massage and stroking as accompanying moves. She moaned with genuine satisfaction and pride in her work ethic: the self-proclaimed Church Whore loved sucking priest cock.
The groan and "Dear Lord" from the bishop inspired her to increase suction and depth. Soon she was in a perfect fluctuation of speed, depth, and intensity of suction. With this variety of sensations, Jim Boyd was not going to last long.
His mildly hairy fingers slid into her stylish updo and held firmly. Sofia knew he was close; so was she, but she dared not touch herself without permission from the bishop. That would be disrespectful of his authori -
"OH My Lorrrd!" Fr. Jim pushed off the cushion and held her tightly. He erupted into her mouth, spewing several arousals' worth of manly seed into her eager and slurping mouth. He let out a staccato breath with each pulse. Sofia never stopped swallowing, nor sucking, her skills now beyond the average. Once she felt him relax, she let off with a wet pop and proceeded to swallow every drop in her mouth. Lifting the shaft, she licked under and around the base to consume any stray dribbles.
After she felt she had adequately cleaned her pastor, she sat back on her heels, her hands flat on her thighs. Her head was bowed, but her eyes were looking to her left in search of approval. The bishop sat in wide-eyed shock.
"You had explained the arrangement, Jim, but you undersold her magnificence. My child, you are a gift from heaven disguised as sin."
She blushed; even after all of these sessions, she still blushed. "Thank you, Your Excellency."
He stood and made quick work of his own black trousers and white undershorts. What appeared was eight inches of masculine power and virility. Sofia audibly swooned. His vocal authority bore the expectation of compliance. "Come to me, Sofia. Worship my staff as the Israelites did for Moses."
She nearly orgasmed then and there. The two priests must have informed the bishop that scripture references enhanced her level of debauchery and perversion. She took just a moment to get to him and, with no effort, swallowed half of his shaft.
The devoted man of God swore loudly. "Oh Fuck!" Fr. Timothy used this cuss once, and Fr. Jim said it during his three sessions of intercourse. Sofia had a Pavlovian reaction, and it made her ears ring and her head grow dizzy with lust. Her hands slid up and down the thickening erection as she pushed more and more into her greedy mouth. She had taken Fr. Timothy to the back of her throat but no farther. By the way he was flexing his hips and gripping her naked shoulders, Bishop Mohan intended to go beyond.
"Take me deeper! Oh, yes, Sofia. The snug fit is diviiinnne..."
She tried to hold her breath and keep from gagging, but her efforts failed. With a great cough and belch, she let out his impressive implement and allowed her spittle and mucus to cascade down her neck and bust. She still held on to his shaft but looked up through tear-flowing eyes. The bishop held her gaze and was in the process of methodically unbuttoning his red clergy shirt and collar. He discarded it on the chair and was now only in his shoes and socks, and a white undershirt.
He looked down at her, judging her willingness. In his eyes, she saw demand as well as a perverted encouragement. She could do it. She would swallow him deeper.
Without speaking, she nodded and dove back onto the cock. Yes, this was a cock, an extraordinary divine deliverer of the Holy Spirit's power and grace. She sucked and pushed and stroked and choked again, this time holding longer.
"Splendid, my child. Nngh! Just remarkable!" the attractive man growled. He pulled her off for another breath, and she plunged him back into her throat. She was taking him all the way to the base; his dark, wiry hairs, wet with her efforts, tickled her nose. Her tongue and cheeks never stopped working. She was rabidly seeking his semen.
The bishop was moving his pelvis backwards and forwards, working his own rhythm. He was already aroused before dinner; the mere sight of this beauty enough to make his mind spin. He knew that his climax was imminent. With regret, he grabbed her head and pulled her back. Her face was a wet mess, her makeup was running and her scalp and neck were perspiring. Still, she did not let him go, her eyes showing not only willingness but need.
"You shall have my seed, whore." The word made her eyes close and her body shiver. Her own orgasm was beginning to move from simmer to boil. "But not in your stomach." Her eyes flew open and without being told, she quickly stood and stripped down her pantyhose and underwear. The two men chuckled at her enthusiasm. She blushed and shrugged her own small laugh. She went to undo her bra in seductive ease; her eyes locked on the tall man she was about to receive in her holy of holies.
"No!" the familiar voice of Fr. Jim called out. "Allow me."
She turned and was not surprised to see he was also down to his undershirt, his own crucifix on a chain swinging across his full chest. She stood still as he unhooked her support garment. She allowed it to fall forward and float to the floor. From behind, he slid his hands underneath each orb and gave them appreciative kneading. She moaned and hummed, knowing her breasts were impressively sized and shaped. Her best asset, Stanley always said. She stood tall, one knee bent to cock her hips in an unnecessarily seductive angle. Fr. Jim released her and eased back. Her dusky pink nipples showed every bump and wrinkle was swollen to maximum.
"I am here to serve," she softly crooned.
The bishop growled and grabbed her by the arms and pulled her into a slamming kiss. She lost her balance for a moment but was soon joining in the lip battle, their hands running up and down each other's backs and backsides.
She pulled off and whispered, "How do you want me?"
He pointed to the couch, and she lay herself down, pulling up her knees to allow her pulsing sex to be on full, dripping display. He lowered himself to take her left breast into his mouth. She sighed and arched and he groaned and suckled.
"The flesh of woman is meant to nourish," he whispered as his tongue and lips took her to a heated state of wantonness.
She felt his length on her thigh, wetly grinding, impatiently pulsing.
"P-p-please...please, Your Excel - OH LORD!" she squealed when his two fingers slid through her damp, thin bush and entered her vagina up to the mid knuckle. Her wetness gushed over them, and she felt her orgasm begin to rise up the cone of her volcanic need. This man knew how to take a woman to ecstasy.
He kissed her again and put his wet fingers on her other nipple. She gasped into his mouth. This was a new sensation that drove her to another level of wild abandon. The coolness of the drying fluid was spurred on by her entire skin aflame with need.
Sofia boldly reached down and gripped his shaft and placed it at her entrance. In wondrous fluidity, he penetrated her with half his length. She pulled off his mouth and cried out as if she had been stabbed. It was a primal sound that brought concern to the host.
"Not so loud, my dear! We cannot risk discovery."
Shame attempted to enter her mind, but she slammed the door on it.
"No, James! Let her shout to the heavens! She deserves to feel - UNGH! Oh my gahhd!"
The bishop was moving in a deeply satisfying rhythm, her internal muscles ripping with urgency. His shaft was plunging her depths beyond anything she had ever known. She hated to admit it, but this was better than her late Stanley.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his firm, flexing buttocks. Her mouth was open, and her eyes were squeezed shut.
“Ohh yess! Harder, please, Your ExcellenCEEE!” The orgasm came out of nowhere. It had been boiling, but now it was like someone threw fuel on the flame underneath. It exploded up from her and shook her whole frame. Her inner walls spasmed so hard she was afraid she would hurt her lover, who had paused in his thrusting.
Her voice was gone, her mind wiped clean, her body transported.
Rapture
Bishop Mohan was calling on all of his self-control to last longer. At his age and with his infrequent carnal satisfaction, he was unsure he could recover as quickly as she needed. Her orgasmic contractions were frantically drawing up his seed.
He pulled out, and she groaned, her vagina actually shaking with denouement. He grabbed her hips and made to flip her over. She caught on quickly and enthusiastically rotated until she was on her knees, her elbows on the arm of the couch. She wondered just how filthy and slutty her sex must look from this angle. Some humiliation crept in, and she put down her head with a brief display of shame. Familiar fingers lifted her chin, and she opened her wet eyes.
Fr. Jim's voice was assuring yet stating solidarity. "We are beyond shame, Sofia." It was comforting. She was about to thank him when he shoved his recovered erection into her mouth. No other way to react, she began to suck.
Behind her, the bishop's incredible scepter was entering her again. Two penises in her body at once was an unprecedented state. Her new awareness of her sexual usefulness caused a sense of purpose to push away any fears, doubt, or shame. The two men both began slow thrusts in her two ends. It was nearly overwhelming.
She pulled off Fr. Jim, holding him and still stroking. "Please, bless me with your seed!" There was an expectant pause as three souls breathed with passionate desperation. "Fuck the Church Whore!" she demanded, and plunged back down, a bit disappointed he could not fill her throat.
The men of God could not believe their ears and eyes. How could they refuse?
What followed was worthy of a dirty DVD attached to one of those magazines behind the convenience store counter.
The bishop’s impressive knob slid back-and-forth, his bloated, hairy testicles bounced off her sex, causing her engorged button to throb even more. Fr. Jim was gripping her hair, now a tangled mess, his manly meat plunging into her mouth as her cheeks hollowed, and her tongue attempted to extract his creamy, bittersweet essence.
“Mmmfff!!” She moaned in gratitude.
Orgasm was so close. Her breasts made slapping noises as they connected from the tremors of the trio in carnal copulation. She knew there was a term for what they were doing, but she didn’t care. All she knew was that the world was turning white, her brain was switching off, and her spiritual sexuality was taking over. In this moment that most parishioners would consider to be the deepest, most depraved sin, she sharply felt the comfort of her Stanley. Along with the assurance of her Lord, the conviction that being a church whore was what she was born to be urged her on. How could she have ever wanted to be a nun and miss out on this?
It was in that place of divine detachment that the bishop gripped her hips especially tight and grunted loudly as he ejected several blasts of slick seed deep inside of her womb.
“Oh, Dear Lord Jesus!”
The orgasm that was already cascading through her body bounced off the corners of her mind and caused her to nearly pass out. Her body was not fully on automatic, but her mouth was working on its own, pleasing her pastor. Fr. Jim held her tight and released his own decent-sized load of loving fertility into her throat.
She gurgled a strangled, “Amen,” and gulped it down.
Sofia had never felt anything like this. It was complete surrender to her sexuality. Since she was denied the joys of ever being a mother to her own child, this was the pinnacle of what it meant to be a woman.
***
The warm water of the shower renewed as well as soothed. She ran the soft washcloth up and down her body, taking note of every ache and marking, recalling when each was applied. It had been an incredible night. Not only had she been taken by both of them at the same time, but she had also: ridden His Excellency to another explosive orgasm, both men had worshiped her breasts with bites and bruising suckles, and the bishop had given her the best oral pleasure of her life.
At 11:15, they called it a night.
She toweled off and sighed as she looked in the mirror. The now sultry, dark-haired Polish American woman looking back at her still looked wanton and wicked, and could not have looked happier. She closed her eyes and gave a soft prayer of thanks to the Lord in heaven for making her who she was: a brilliant office manager, an incredibly strong leader, and the Church Whore.
She made a sign of the cross and kissed Stanley’s crucifix that she never took off.
She turned off the light and padded softly into the bedroom. The soft lamp on the bedside table gave just enough light to illuminate her path. The symbolism was not lost on her.
She lifted up the bedspread and slipped her long, sexy body into the sheets, deciding it was useful to sleep naked. After all, the bishop next to her wasn’t going to be asleep all night.
She would make sure of that.
It was her duty and her pleasure.
Thank you for reading. If you liked it, hit the heart. If you really liked it, go clean up and then hit the star for a favor. And as always leave a comment, I tried to respond to them all.
Thanks for being naughty with me, Peace, Matt.
