Father Daniel’s “Spell.” by Roger and Phyllisroger falconhope123@

I was young and nubile and also, this was the important part, longed for and loved orgasms and climaxes and all kinds of things like that which were a kind of ‘forbidden fruit.’ After all, I was not that old but my body was fully developed. Nice breasts, a slender waist and a pussy that wouldn’t stop wanting attention…not to mention anal…another joy. I was all systems “go” and systems were ready to go with any suggestion, or no suggestion at all.

Then there was this young priest, Father Daniel, in his dark robe and dangling religious cross with the little Man on it…an almost naked symbol of rectitude…erectitude!……nailed to a cross but what stuck in my mind was this Man with only a loin cloth concealing his privates. It should not have been erotic but for me, a young woman, I imagined him stripped of that cloth, revealing a deprived, nascent penis which I would anoint with my lips, lick with my tongue, work my feminine magic on his body until he was alive, erect, wah lah…glorious pulsing erectitude! dripping with pre-cum and my body ready to stir him and IT to an ecstatic “religious” experience…me leaping on the cross, grasping his shoulders, lifting to position and my legs embracing that body, looking down at his hard cock in full display between my legs, lunging my cunt onto his hard cock…again and AGAIN!Him mumbling: “Forgive me Father…but she knows what to do.” Feeling him enter my wet body, churning me, holding Him tight and then His ejaculation and His spiritual sperm oozing from my hot cunt. He softens, smiles and I slip down, licking Him dry, both of us still shivering in a forbidden delight. Mary Magdalene, her feverish kisses on Him, His cock milking her cunt to ecstasy had nothing on our last minute encounter. He should have been ashamed yielding to earthly pleasure even with his beloved Mary. I had no shame when it came to fucking.

But such was not to happen except in my sacrilegious dreams. Father Daniel’s dangling cross was only a symbol that aroused my imagination…my wicked thoughts…which were now in the form and flesh of dear handsome, hot Father Daniel…his black robe and the cross symbolizing what was beneath his robe…as I already knew, it having been secretly revealed to me: it was a beautiful cock ready for my attentions. I thought priests were circumcised but he explained that at birth there was no idea of a religious bent and thus he had foreskin with which I like to play in our little sex games. His dangling cross was the only dangling thing when we were together!

Becky and I would take turns milking that wonderful instrument of pleasure until Father Daniel lay in an exhausted state having pleased us both. He seduced me one early afternoon after school but then the fun began as I shamed him to admit that he was a sinful fucking machine…not just with me but with both Becky and me…I loved riding him and sucking him off with a religious zeal. He was young and virile…extremely virile…and Becky and I tasted of his virility. I called him every sinful and dirty name before, during and after our fuck sessions and it all made him hotter still.

One afternoon, Becky left early after one of our ‘fuck sessions’ and Father Daniel whispered in my ear: “Phyllis. I want to meet you away from church and spend more time, alone, just with you.” His words sent erotic chills through me…my cunt lips spontaneously twitching…shivers all over.

Becky and I were best friends but also competitors for the priest’s attentions in some erotic way. We girls each wanted to be his favorite, I suppose. Daniel continued: “I know a motel in town. Why don’t we meet there…just you and me?” I nodded and cuddled in to him…we were both naked, except for his cross resting on my breast, and exhausted and cuddling in his private room. I loved rubbing my body over his nakedness, feeling his limp cock on my wet cunt…knowing I was the cause both of inflaming it and also of putting it to sleep…surely a power of the gods! My power over this devout one. I reached and felt his balls and thought of seeing him alone. It was erotic to think of our ‘secret’ time without Becky sharing. I was under his ‘Spell.’

The next day couldn’t come soon enough. The motel was walking distance from school and I walked there as soon as class was over, knocking on the room he had indicated.