“Wait wait—hgn” your pretty priest whines out before you cover his mouth with your hand. His drool and warm gasps soaks your hand.
“Hhmm” his muffled moaning comes through. You’re thankful for the thickness of the confessional.
His eyes look drunk and teary, and so so pretty. His hands are tied above his head with girdle from his robes and his purple stole. You move and raise your hips against him, his cock filling you so nicely as you ride him so fucking harshly, barely giving him a chance to breathe properly before having him fill you up completely.
You pull his head back with your other hand, and bite his neck, causing a loud yet still muffled fuck to sound out.
You’re guiding him to hit all the right spots for you. He’s pushing his hips to join you, but he’s so deliciously sensitive. He’s practically crying from overstimulation. You have been using him for a while after all.
He tries to pull his hands out but can’t. He’s gonna cum soon. You can feel it in the way his body is trembling. And how he whines in need to touch you, to have control, to make you slow down, or go faster. He always is indecisive when he’s taken charge. But you don’t mind, because he’s always so deliciously needy for you.
You take your hand off his mouth as you whisper in his ear.
“Father, you need to be quiet. You’re going to get us caught.” You lightly bite his neck before continuing “or maybe you want to be caught with me. Want everyone to see how needy you are, to have your body used for pleasure” you practically moan into his ear.
“Oh fuck, please please please” he whines out. He’s lost in pleasure and sounds so fuck drunk. You keep moving, you’re breathing heavier as you pull his head between your breast, suffocating him from the force alone, but once again muffling the sound of his whines as he cums.
You feel him twitching and trembling and trying to gasp out for air as he paints your walls white.
You push his head back, and it basically hangs down back as he tries to regain his breathing quickly. He’s a bit broken for now. Overstimulated. Overused. He needs rest. You get off of him. His cum coming down from between your legs as you step back, fixing your dress and looking at your used up priest. Robes completely disheveled and open, as he’s also naked waist down with hands tied up.
So pretty you can’t help but take a picture, before going to kiss him one last time. He barely responds, still to fucking gone from being fucked.
“See you next Sunday, father” you say before you leave him just like that. All ruined and fucked out, and tied up. He’ll figure how to get himself free. He always does.
