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gyaradosisntflying130-blog · 8 years ago

Text

Holy fuck no way

Ghost (Confessional Sex)

((Tah-dah! Its super long as a thank you to my followers, it took me three days to finish.))

You were never a person of faith; it was nothing against anyone in particular, or borne from any bad experience, the whole thing just never really clicked for you. Your mom would always bring you to church on Sundays when you were younger, and she tried her best to instill in you the love for the church that she had; she took communion, went to confession, and prayed before meals like a good parishioner should have. But as time wore on, you became less and less invested in church, and by your late teens had stopped attending altogether.

Now that you were a bit older, the thought of going back had crossed your mind once or twice, but you never pursued the idea until word came around that a new church had been built across town from you. It was small and didn’t have a large congregation yet, but those who had attended said nothing but good things about it, even if their answers seemed a little vague. It was the following Sunday that you decided to go back, even if just to check out what the buzz was about.

You were nervous as you approached the imposing doors of the church, more than a little apprehensive about what your first time back in a while would be like. You pushed the doors open and were met with almost entirely empty pews. Aside from yourself, there were only a handful of other people, maybe four or five, making the room seem eerie in its vacancy. You nervously smoothed out your blouse and skirt, and took a seat toward the front of the rows, near to the pulpit, but not in the front row. You felt horribly out of place, overwhelmed and overdressed.

The murmuring of the few other attendees felt silent, and the strangest looking pastor you had ever seen stepped forward and stole the people’s attention. He stood, imposing and almost frightening, with dark hair, and black and white face paint, giving his face an almost skull-like appearance. You were entranced and he quietly brushed off his silky suit, and leaned slightly over the podium, his face deathly serious.

“Hello, my name is Papa Emeritus the Third, and thank you all for being here today.” His voice was thick with an accent, and you felt a chill run down your spine as he made direct eye contact with you, his mismatched eyes seeming to stare into your soul. You squirmed in your seat, feeling guilty as you began to realize you felt an almost unexplainable attraction to him, one, you were sure, you’d never be able to act upon.

You sat in the pew, almost unbearably tense as Papa Emeritus gave the sermon, your legs restless and fidgeting. Every time he moved in the slightest, you felt increasingly drawn to him, your eyes hanging onto every subtle gesture, and your heart racing at the slight smirk he would occasionally give you. Your desire grew deeper, vivid fantasies taking over your thought process; visions of your back against a wall, his fingers inside you, his lips on your throat, kissing and licking. Scenes of your hands pinned above you, your breathing heavy and hot, being touched and taken, moans falling from your mouth with ease…

You glanced around, hoping in vain that you weren’t the only one who felt the boiling heat in the room and the magnetism of the priest. No one else seemed to be bothered, in fact, they all seemed incredibly bored with the sermon at hand, and not at all phased by the man’s appearance.

“What even is the sermon about?” Your thoughts raced wildly. “How does no one else feel this? What the fuck is wrong with me?” Shame rose up inside you, and your face turned red with embarrassment about your less than pure thoughts about the priest, who now seemed hyper focused on lecturing straight to you, though you weren’t sure if that was actually the case, or if it was just all in your head. The din of your own thoughts drowned out Papa Emeritus’ words, as you fell deeper into confusion.

You jolted back to reality as Papa Emeritus’ voice cut through the air, and the few members of the congregation stirred around you. “Thank you all so much for attending today, and I’ll be in the confessional booth, should anyone feel the need to…” He stared directly at you, “Confess.”

You felt like you were on fire, and the call to confess felt more like a command than a suggestion; your face burned with shame as the overwhelming desire to run to the confessional and spill your guts took hold. You quickly checked around you, and felt your stomach jolt as you watched the last person leave the church, all of them having ignored the confessional booth. You were alone, except for the attractive priest, whose shoes you could see under the curtain of his side of the confessional booth. You rushed over to the booth, nearly slamming the door shut on your side.

“This is absurd. What am I doing, I haven’t confessed in ages!” you yelled at yourself as you stood in the cramped quarters. You felt faint with nerves, and you unsteadily sat on the small bench, trying to catch your breath. You intertwined your shaking hands as you looked to your right, barely making out the black and white face on the other side of the lattice. Your voice trembled.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” Your tongue felt like lead, and you sat on edge as you waited for him to reply; the silence seemed to stretch on, before you heard him give a small laugh. “I know.” he sounded smug. You were shocked, “Excuse me?!” You sputtered. His voice was clear as he spoke again. “I said I know, Ghuleh. I know what you’ve done, what you’ve thought, what you’re thinking right now. That’s part of my gift, I suppose.” You began to panic and you blushed hard. “Oh my god, then that means he–” Your thoughts were interrupted. “Yes, that means I know exactly what you were thinking while I was preaching.” He looked straight at you through the lattice. “And I’m almost impressed, darling. Being able to sit there, so properly, only moving a little, thinking such lascivious things about a priest, and in such great detail.” His fingers curled around the fencing between you. “Tell me, do you still want those things?”

You sat in silence, knowing that you should run, to just leave the confessional and never return, and yet something was keeping you rooted to the spot. You bit your lip and realized that it was desire, and that you craved him. As you regained your composure, you nodded, unable to make eye contact. “Say it, my filthy sinner, I need to hear you say the word.” he hissed, and his words hit you with the feeling of touching a live wire. Your voice was a hoarse whisper. “Yes.” Your stomach flipped as you saw him stand and rip open the curtain on his side, and you gave a startled squeal when the door to your side of the confessional was ripped open, and he stepped into the booth with you, shutting the door.

He grabbed the front of your blouse with both hands and yanked you to a standing position, and shoved your back up against the wall. You whimpered and writhed as Papa nipped and kissed your neck, leaving thin bruises as he went. One of your hands tangled in his hair, pressing him closer as he tugged roughly at your blouse, popping off some of the delicate buttons, sending them scattering to the floor as his hand slid down to undo your bra, leaving you completely topless. Your arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders as he moved in closer in the already small space, his other hand trailing up your inner thigh, scratching and making you moan with need.

“Papa, please, I need you inside me, please–” Your breath caught in a gasp and he slid two fingers inside you, moving them at a steady pace. “Shh…” he whispered in your ear. “Be patient, Ghuleh, you’ll get what I give you.” His other hand moved from your breasts to your hair, yanking it hard. “Do you understand?” You squirmed and nodded as best as you could. He chuckled and moved his fingers faster, “Good girl.” Your eyes fluttered and your legs threatened to collapse beneath you as he moved faster, keeping you unbearably close to climax, but never pushing you over the edge. It seemed to go on forever, your back aching as he kept you pressed to the wall of the confessional, desperately needy.

“Do you want more, Ghuleh? Is that what you need, to be fucked senseless in this confessional, in the middle of a church? Beg for me.” He growled. “Please!” you voice was a breathy whine. “Please Papa, please fuck me.” Papa’s teeth met your neck as he pulled his fingers out of you, marking you with a large crescent bite mark. “You’re such a fucking whore.” He sounded equal parts impressed and condescending as he hiked your skirt up, and pulled your panties off, letting them fall to the floor. His breathing was just as hot and heavy as yours as he pulled his cock out from his pants, and almost maddeningly slowly pushed inside you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, forcing you to stay upright as he started to fuck you faster.

You only got louder and louder and your pleasure grew, until a hand around your neck cut off your air supply, effectively quieting you. “Shut up!” Papa snarled, “Do you want someone to fucking catch us? What if someone comes inside?” You gasped for air, “I’m sorry Papa,” you forced out, and moaned when he let you go, to refocus on the task at hand. You felt your orgasm approaching when you heard Papa’s voice, “One Hail Mary.” You were so thrown off you almost stopped moving your hips in time with his, “W-what?” Papa’s hands gripped you tighter and his movements got faster. “This is a fucking confessional, isn’t it? You don’t get to cum until I say, so you better get to it.” He smirked at you and ran a hand through your hair. “Absolve yourself, sinner.”

Your lust addled mind fought to remember the words and ignore the waves of pleasure washing over you from the unholy man’s movements. “H-hail Mary full of–” he hit that perfect spot inside you and you moaned. “Grace, fuck, Our Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus fucking Christ, Papa,–Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners…” You whined as he slapped your thigh and fucked you into the wall, his own movement becoming unsteady. “N-now and at the hour of our death. Oh fuck, oh my God Papa, I’m gonna cum, please let me–” You scrambled to remember the last word as your body shook and coherent speech was lost to you. “Amen!” You screamed in frustration and Papa Emeritus laughed. “Good girl, cum for me, fucking whore, cum for me!”.

You bit your lip and called out Papa’s name as your climax finally washed over you, making you see stars. You heard Papa give a satisfied moan as he came inside you, dragging his nails down your thighs.

You shakily put your clothes back on, as best as you could with your shirt missing buttons, and leaned hard against the confessional. Papa Emeritus smirked at you and kissed your lips passionately, pushing open the door to let himself out. “I look forward to seeing you back here next Sunday.” He held the door open for you and lightly pinched your ass as you exited the booth. “My favorite sinner”. You couldn’t wait to go back.

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