by Holly Ardent
When Clay woke in the morning it was with a dry cottony mouth, a raging headache, and vague memories of doing something he shouldn't have the night before.
By the time he finished breakfast he'd convinced himself that the memories must have been from a dream.
That kind of thing just doesn't happen in real life, especially not to a priest, he thought.
He spent the morning settling in some more. He placed his own belongings around the house, then rearranged them several times. That helped a little. A walk for a half mile in both directions along the road gave him more of a sense of his surroundings as well as some fresh air.
He returned home for lunch and was just putting the dishes in the dishwasher when the doorbell rang.
“Good afternoon Father,” Faith said when he opened the door.
Clay blushed as the memories of his dream ran through his head.
“Hello Faith, what can I do for you today?” he said.
“I never did manage to get the extra meals cooked for you yesterday. I told you I'd come back today, that's why I'm here.”
“Come in then. I'm sorry, I had completely forgotten about that.”
“That's alright Father, when I left you were very relaxed and half asleep. Did you rest well?”
“I rested quite well, but I ought not be drinking... at least not that much.”
He stepped to the side to let her in and followed her as she walked towards the kitchen.
“I'm sorry,” she said. “When you'd said you used the whiskey for relieving stress and to help you sleep, I just did the same. I thought between that and the other that you should rest just fine.”
And the other? he thought. Did I not dream all that? Did it really happen?
Father Clay was thankful that Faith was in front of him and couldn't see his face. If she'd noticed him blushing at the door, she hadn't said anything. But now he was sure his face was purple.
Maybe if I just don't say anything about it, she'll drop the subject.
“What will I be having for meals this week?” he asked.
“Well, I need to talk with you some more and find out exactly what you like. Then I can decide what to make.”
Faith directed him to a chair in the kitchen and brought him a cup of coffee, with no whiskey in it. After a few questions, she started in on the first of the meals she'd be making and they continued to talk as she cooked. It only took her an hour to have five meals lined up for him.
“After they cool some we'll get them in the freezer,” she said. “But in the meanwhile, there's something I'd like to talk to you about.”
“Yes?”
“I need you to minister to my needs Father.”
“What do you need? I'll be glad to help if I can,” Clay said.
“I was hoping you'd say that. Come with me.”
Faith left the kitchen and went upstairs. Clay followed, his curiosity growing. When she walked into his bedroom, he almost turned around and headed back downstairs.
Instead he stuck just his head around the corner of the door. What he saw left him slack-jawed. Faith was sitting on the edge of his bed, removing her clothes. He pulled his head out of the doorway.
“What are you doing?” he cried.
“Getting ready.”
“For what?”
“For you to minister to my needs, like you said you would.”
“But... Not like that! I can't do that.”
“Yes you can, I know you can. I found that out last night. Just to be sure I took a video of it with my phone. You were entirely capable of it then even while you were drunk. You're sober now, so it should be even less of a problem.”
“I mayn't. It isn't allowed,” Clay said from in the hallway.
Faith stepped through the door, completely nude. She stared at Clay, who turned his face away from her.
“Am I that ugly?” she asked.
“No, not at all,” Clay said, the tightness of his pants proving the truth of his words, “I'm just not allowed to...”
His voice trailed off as he thought about how to finish the sentence.
“Father Staunton had no problems with it after the first few times,” Faith said. “I thought with you being a much younger man that there would be even fewer problems. Evidently I was wrong.”
“Priests are not allowed to have intercourse, not allowed to copulate,” Clay said.
“You obviously don't read the papers or the news on the internet very much, do you? It seems that a lot of priests do so anyhow, and with young children at that. What I need should mean nothing to a church that shelters child molesters as yours has.”
Clay stopped. He felt a righteous indignation boil up from somewhere inside of him.
Who is she to make these accusations? What right does she have to ask this of me?
He glared at her.
“Well,” Faith said. “I'd hoped it wouldn't be like this, but I'm prepared for it. That video I mentioned? Do you think the Diocese would like a copy of it emailed to them? You're very photogenic, you know? Easily recognizable even with the poor quality of the video.”
Clay's glare faltered and his mind raced.
She wouldn't, would she? What would happen if she did? I'd certainly be removed from here and no longer have a congregation. That would be liable to happen even before I preached my first sermon.
After what happened last night, I don't doubt that she has the guts to do it. Would it really be that bad? It's a sin, but even priests sin. Some of them more than others, like she said. I know what she said is the truth, but I always overreact to aspersions cast on the church.
Clay couldn't maintain eye contact with her. His head sagged and his eyes traveled down her body.
I can do penance to make up for it. She's attractive and if it's anywhere near as good as last night I'll sleep better also, be well rested for my first sermon tomorrow.
He raised a hand, covering his eyes and forehead with it.
What am I thinking? Why am I even considering this?
Clay's mind raced in circles as Faith stood there patiently, watching him. He tried to keep his eyes covered, but found himself staring at her nude body. Now he understood that warm feeling he'd experienced when she looked at him the day before. She was looking at him that way again and the heat from her gaze was rushing to his groin.
I either do what she says or I'll be defrocked. Is it worse to take the sin on myself and stay a priest, albeit a sinful one, or to be defrocked and lose the opportunity to guide others correctly?
Faith reached up and brushed a hand over her nipples, causing then to harden. Father Clay gulped and a rush of saliva filled his mouth. His shoulders sagged and he exhaled heavily.
“What would you have me do?” he asked.
Faith took Father Clay's hand and led him into the bedroom.
* * *
“First you need to get rid of your clothes,” she said.
Father Clay sat on the edge of the bed and, unenthusiastically, started undressing.
“Father,” Faith cried gleefully, “I see that you aren't nearly as uninterested as you claim.”
Clay squeezed his eyes shut.
“I never claimed to be uninterested,” he said. “I simply said it was wrong, that it isn't allowed.”
Faith giggled like a little girl.
“Sometimes what's wrong can be very right. Here, let me remind you.”
She dropped to her knees in front of him and, before he realized what she was doing, took his erection deep into her mouth. Clay reached to push her away, but when he applied pressure to her head, he felt her teeth tighten down, putting pressure on his cock. He froze and drew his hand back. In return she eased her teeth away from his shaft.
Faith started bobbing her head up and down on his cock, her lips pressed tightly against his skin. Father Clay, with no idea of what to do with his hands, leaned back slightly and used them to support his weight. He tried his best to become unaroused, to will his cock back into a flacci
d state, but his body refused to listen to him. Finally he closed his eyes and just tried not to enjoy it too much.
He was slow to react when he realized that she'd taken her mouth off of his cock. He started to sit up, but Faith pushed him backwards, leaning into him so he was supporting her weight. He collapsed onto the bed with her on top of him.
The press of her breasts against his chest distracted him. The heat of her pussy where it barely touched his cock added to the distraction.
What do I do? I won't offer her physical violence, I just won't. She's got me pinned, but maybe I can squirm out from under her?
Clay tried to move, but found that Faith had her arms to either side of him. She drew her legs up and knelt, one leg to either side of his body. He tried to squirm, but got nowhere. While he did, she was rubbing her pussy against him, against his traitorous cock that even now was trying to get him to stop fighting, telling him to give in and enjoy what was being offered.
His inner struggle was snuffed out when his cock was engulfed by a sense of wet heat. He looked up and saw that Faith had mounted him and was lowering herself down onto his cock.
My God! He thought. This is absolutely nothing like what James and I experimented with. I suppose it isn't really any more wrong than what he and I did, and I tried to enjoy that. I don't know how much longer I can struggle against something that feels this good, and I'm starting to wonder why I should.
He stared at Faith as she rode him, impaling herself on his cock over and over again. His fascination took over and his hands rose, almost of their own accord, to the ample breasts that had been pressed against his chest.
“That's right Father, play with my titties. I saw you staring at them in the hallway. Do you like them?”
They were too large for him to take them entirely in his hands, but he grabbed as much of them as he could, feeling their softness mold to his grip. He remembered what she'd done in the hallway and moved his fingers to her nipples, brushing them softly.
He jerked his hands back as her nipples lengthened and hardened, poking into his hands. Faith reached down and drew his hands back to her nipples and that was all the encouragement he needed.
“Yes,” he said, “I like them. To my everlasting shame, I like them.”
He played with her nipples, trying to see if he could get them any larger than they already were. He tugged on them and pinched them, brushed them gently with his palms, and tried twisting them like they were radio dials. They didn't get any larger no matter what he did.
Faith leaned over, forcing his hands away from her breasts. Then she took a single hand and used it to guide her breast to his mouth, drawing her nipple over his lips until he got the idea and opened up. Her nipple slid in and he started sucking on it. What his hands had been unable to do, his mouth managed. He felt her nipples grow slightly larger as he suckled.
Meanwhile Faith was slamming up and down on his cock. He could feel the moisture from her cunt dripping down onto his balls and there were little wet noises each time she drove him all the way inside of her.
He sucked on her nipple hard, stretching it with his enthusiasm, and she let out a soft moan. Supporting herself with one hand, she grabbed one of his hands and dragged it between them. She pushed his hand against the top of her pussy, then released her grip and took hold of his forefinger.
“Like this,” she said.
Faith pressed his finger against herself and started pushing it from side to side. Her breath sped up and Father Clay realized that whatever she had him doing was turning her on even more. When she drew her own hand away, he left his there. His finger kept pushing against her, moving back and forth.
“Oh God! I'm going to cum!” Faith cried.
She sat upright again and her back arched. Clay watched as her face flushed and her body went taught. She drove herself down on him one more time, then stayed still with his cock buried deep within her. He felt her pussy throbbing around his cock, contracting against it over and over, and he fought to keep from joining her in orgasm.
He'd already forgotten his misgivings and wanted more of the sensation that had claimed his body. He couldn't hold back though and he felt his cock swell and start spurting inside of her. That made her cum even harder and when her pussy finally stopped convulsing around his cock, he almost sighed in relief. The pleasure had reached a point where it was almost unbearable.
Faith collapsed on top of him, her breasts pressed against his chest again. He felt her nipples poking into his chest and his cock stirred inside of her. She noticed also and twitched her breasts back and forth a few times, dragging them across his chest. After a few minutes she rolled over and off of him. She looked, first at his cock and then at the rest of him. A smile broke out on her face.
“Oh good. I know just what to do now. Are you done trying to run away from this?”
He nodded.
“Then I'll tell you that I know this is wrong too. That makes it feel so much better, but now for my penance. I know assigning penance is part of your job, but this one time I'd like to suggest my own. If you enjoy it, perhaps you'll assign it again in the future.”
“What are you talking about?” Clay asked.
“This,” Faith said, mounting him again.
She positioned herself over his erection and lowered herself onto him.
What's she doing? Clay wondered. That's not what we were doing before, it's much, much tighter.
Faith grimaced as she lowered herself down him. When she'd managed to get all the way down, Clay was already fighting to keep from cumming a second time.
“No matter how much a woman might tell you she likes it, this always hurts at least a little. I never believe the women who say they don't feel any pain when getting fucked in the ass,” Faith said.
Clay squeezed his eyes shut, partly from horror at discovering what was now happening and partly to keep himself from cumming.
“So, a little pain as the penance for illicit pleasure. That's what this is my penance for, our illicit pleasure,” she said.
She started riding him again, more slowly this time.
“Clay, are you there?”
He nodded.
“Say something to me. Do you like this?”
“Yes,” he said in a strangled tone.
“Then what's wrong? I thought you were over running from this? I was hoping you might take control over my penance here. I'm sure it would be much more effective that way. I can't force myself to go as hard and fast as this should be done, but I'm sure you'd be able to do that.”
Clay winced and something in his morals snapped, or at least bent a little.
“Fine. You need to get off of me first though,” he said.
Faith eagerly scrambled off of his cock.
Clay stood and pushed her face down onto the bed. He tugged at her legs, opening them wide, then placed his cock against her asshole.
After a little bit of fumbling, he managed to get the head of his cock inside of her. Once he was that far in, he thrust hard and deep. Faith gave a strangled gasp as he pulled out and thrust again, deeper this time.
He pounded away at her ass, but realized that he wasn't getting as deep as she'd had him when she was on top. So he pulled out.
“Get up on all fours. I think I can get deeper that way,”
Faith struggled onto all fours and Clay positioned himself behind her again. This time her ass was dry and it was nearly painful to push himself inside. He didn't let that stop him though, he kept pushing and pushing until he was far into her as he could get. Much deeper than he'd been able to get in their last position.
Clay drew out and thrust in. It got easier when Faith played with her own pussy a little then wrapped the hand she'd used around his cock, lubricating it slightly. Father Clay took the easier movement as a sign that he should speed up.
Faith was almost falling over each time he slammed his cock into her ass, so he reached out and grabbed her hair, wrapping it around his hand and holding her from
falling forward. Faith was making strange noises deep in her throat, and whenever she slid forward and he ended up pulling her hair, she gave out a strangled cry.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked.
She tried to nod and yanked on her own hair. So she opened her mouth instead.
“Yes,” she said in a tiny voice.
Clay was nearly exhausted when he felt his cock start to swell. He drove himself into her ass several more times, then buried his cock deep inside of her as he started cumming. He felt her ass squeezing his cock, trying to milk as much of his cum as it could. When he was done cumming, his cock quickly went limp and slid out of her.
Father Clay fell onto his back, exhausted. Faith crumpled down beside him. For a few minutes the only sound was of them catching their breath.
“Oh Father, I think I came more during my penance than during the pleasures I was doing penance for,” Faith said.
“Then it wasn't penance. Penance is not supposed to be pleasurable,” he replied.
“Then what should penance be?” she asked.
“Once upon a time it could be something painful, but that wouldn't seem to be any sort of punishment for you.”
“So, it's supposed to be a punishment?”
“Not really, it's supposed to be a public acknowledgment of wrongdoing and an effort to make up for it. I'm sorry, I'm not describing it well. My mind is rather foggy right now.”
“Something public? I might like that,” Faith said.
“No, no, I'm sorry, ask me tomorrow.”
“If it isn't supposed to be pleasurable and is supposed to be punishment, then perhaps something distasteful?”
“That's close. It's almost, but not quite, supposed to be a deterrent as well.”
Clay watched as Faith closed her eyes and thought for a moment. She drew herself up onto all fours again and positioned her head over his groin.
“Father, please put your hand on the back of my head. Push down when I tell you to, and hold me there for a while?”
Clay looked at her oddly, then did as she'd asked. Faith put a hand on his limp cock and held it straight up.
“Push,” she said.
Clay pushed her head down and she opened her mouth. His cock slid into it and she let go with her hand after she had him in there. Clay kept the pressure on her head, wondering what she was doing, until he remembered what they'd just done.