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papasmicstand · 26 days ago

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In honor of the Ascension, my religiously traumatized self brings you pornography! (I may have promised this 3 weeks ago, but I suck at life, so...) Enjoy!

The Full Umbra Experience

Summary:

Frater Imperator is annoyed that Papa V writes about things he has never experienced. You and Frater decide to have your own Umbra experience at the local Catholic church.

That darkly sweet smell that was so hard to describe yet so intoxicating filled your senses. “Copia?” you asked, sensing your lover’s presence behind you.

His arms circled your waist, lips pressing a soft kiss to the side of your neck as he settled in behind you. “Amore, I’ve missed you,” he relaxed against you, breathing you in.

Copia had been gone for the weekend promoting V’s new album. A task that he did with gritted teeth and a twist of jealousy in his guts. But his job was to lead the ministry, and as much as it grated on him, success for V was a success for everyone.

“I didn’t expect you until tomorrow morning,” you said, happy to have the gift of an additional night with your favorite Papa.

“I needed to come back,” he said. “V is insufferable. He can't stop bragging about how well this album is doing, how it will win more awards than any of mine. Meanwhile, he writes these songs about things he’s never even experienced.”

“Is that so?” Your fingers traced the soft leather of his gloves where they clutched your middle.

Though he was complaining, you sensed the anger fading away as he held you. A sigh left him and he was gently swaying you to the music playing in his head. “Yeah, like Lachryma, he’s never been heartbroken over anyone. He doesn’t even do long-term relationships.”

“Well, maybe there are some things you don’t know about him?” The brothers hadn’t grown up together, so there had to be some mystery there. “You aren’t exactly joined at the hip.”

“We’re twins, even though he hasn’t been in my life the whole time he’s an open book. He tells me more than I’d prefer.” Copia thought about the stories he'd already heard from this tour, and it was still only beginning.

Concern edged into your voice, “You don’t tell him everything, do you?”

“Not everything, but it’s like there are things we just know about each other. It’s hard to explain… And the same with Satanized, he’s never had a love like that.”

Love was one thing that came easily between you and Copia. “Perhaps we should pity him?”

“Pssh… he’s happy the way that he is. He’s thoroughly enjoying all of this.” Copia grumbled, but he was already forgetting about V, one hand mindlessly drifting to your chest.

A devious thought crossed your mind, “I just had an idea that might make you feel better.”

“Mmm? Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” His fingers ghosted over a nipple.

You sucked in your breath at your lover’s touch. “Maybe? Since you don’t think he’s experienced the things he writes about, what about Umbra? Do you think he’s done that?”

“We’ve all had sex in the chapel,” Copia reddened. “Rituals are part of the, eh, Papal experience.”

Your smile turned evil. “No, not in this chapel, I mean a Catholic one. Like in the song, in the shadow of the Nazarene .”

“How many times have you listened to the song, amore, that you know all the lyrics? Hmmm?” He squeezed you tighter, nuzzling into the warmth of your skin.

“Nevermind about that, answer my question,” you slapped at his arms playfully.

“He hasn’t done that, neither have I.”

You turned to face the Papa that had your heart for all of these years and bit your lip, “I never thought I'd ask you this, but… take me to church?”

---------------

Frater paled a little at your idea. Catholic churches had always made him itchy, and the Latin bits of the service made his soul itself tingle, in a bad way. His mind said no , but his dick said hell yes . And so it happened that an hour later Copia was escorting you into the local church, hesitantly, wearing his priestly robes, but skipping the upside down cross for this occasion. “Why are there so many people here, it's nearly midnight?” He swallowed, he had hoped it would be empty and the two of you would be undisturbed.

“Must be a holy day?” you mused. Were there any holy days in May? "The Ascension, that's it. They're having a midnight mass.”

Frater cursed himself for not realizing this. Of course he had studied Catholicism in his earlier years, but he had totally forgotten about the Ascension. None of the Emeritus men were shy per se, but his exhibitionism did have limits. He wiped the sweat from his brow and walked in with you. An usher handed you each a white candle, “Evening, Father.”

He nodded back at the man politely. More people greeted you as you walked up the aisle and Copia smiled and shook hands, but was growing increasingly uncomfortable and soon pulled you to the side.

“I don’t see anywhere private to go and, eh, it’s getting noticeable,” he glanced downwards to alert you to what he was referring to.

“What, your erection?” you asked, brushing against him and indeed feeling a hardness, though it was still contained.

“Shhh, not that,” he choked back a moan, “This,” and you saw that even through his gloves his touch was turning the candle black. Darkness traveled through it in streaks that were slowly staining all of the wax.

“Ooh, I didn’t know that you could do that?” you said.

“Neither did I,” he whispered to you. “Amore, I'm feeling perceived. And these people think I am one of them? I don't think we can make this work tonight. Let me take you home. I'll fuck the religion out of you. Promise.”

You smiled, then glanced up, hope rising. You nudged him in the ribs and then pointed up at the choir loft. “It's a pity that attendance is down these days. No one is seated in the loft, not even the choir.”

“You think you can be quiet enough to take it during mass with no one hearing?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yes?” A hint of question in your answer as you began to walk.

“Bugiarda,” he mumbled, but followed you.

You retreated to the back of the church, and dipped two fingers into the holy water on your way to the stairs. You flashed a bit of ankle at Copia and he grabbed your hand, his sizzling where the water touched him, and pulled you up the ancient steps to the abandoned section.

“Cazzo! That shit stings,” he grumbled, but his horniness at seeing you in this holy place was pushing out all other thoughts. The loft was empty save for a handful of pews rimmed by votives of candles and a small piano in the corner. Although abandoned, someone had gone to the trouble of lighting each wick. Copia could barely handle seeing you glowing in sinful magnificence, overlooking the oblivious congregation below. “Sorella, have I told you lately how fucking beautiful you are? No one here loves their god as much as I love you.”

“It’s just me,” you kissed him.

“You are more than I could have ever dreamt of,” he said softly, lovesick eyes meeting yours.

You melted at his sappy words, but recovered yourself. “See, look, we can do it in the corner there and be out of here before the first reading.”

“Sorella, you wound me. Is that how you want it, rushed and hidden?” Your lover’s hands began exploring you in the shadows.

“Didn’t you just say that you didn’t want to do it in front of the crowd?” you countered. “Si, but we could at least put on a show for their god?”

A voice interrupted your thoughts, “Please open your missalettes to page 176 and sing, Alleluia, Sing to Jesus. ”

You peered over the balcony. From here you could see a host of white candles bobbing in the hands of the parishioners below. The priest strode in, adorned in golden robes, spreading incense as the people sang around him. He walked slowly toward the altar where Jesus’ likeness stared back in frozen misery on the cross.

Copia took the candle from your hand and, with his, added them to the wall of votives at the side of the loft. Then he came back to you, “Did you hear? You’re supposed to be singing. Let me help you.” You were standing in front of the pews, and spun to face him, turning away from the view of the congregation. Your personal priest slid into the front row and pulled down the kneeler and then took his position on it as if he were praying. “Come closer,” he pulled you against the front of the pew and made his way underneath your habit. His tongue wasted no time in finding its favorite place. Somewhere along the way he removed his gloves, because his naked hands were now caressing the smooth skin of your thighs. Indeed, you let a low sound slip, thankful for the voices below that could mask your irreverent song.

Before you could make it to release, the song stopped and so did Copia. A wry smile on his face. He stood and kissed you, “Can’t risk it while it’s quiet. You’ll have to wait.”

With that, he pulled you over the pew onto his side and began making out with you. He hadn’t done his full makeup, but there was black on his lip and around his eyes. His lips were now leaving black all over your neck. Soon he was divesting your clothes, and laying you out on the hard wood below. The kisses moved to each breast and your stomach. “Look at you. Who would worship god when an angel lays before them?” He dove back in.

“That damn lipstick, you're tainting me, just like the candle,” you teased. “I’m supposed to look pure. Chaste.”

He had to choke back a laugh. “Did you say taint?” he asked as another song started up. As the chorus got louder, he was back at your mound, sucking your clit and tickling your taint. You were writhing now, trying not to cry out. The pew creaked beneath your movements and he held your legs tighter to stifle the sound. A string of moans flowed out of you. Fuck, have to be quieter. He was focused as he prodded you closer to the edge. Your fingernails dug into the dark wood of the pew. Just when you were approaching the point of no return, the song came to an end. This one had been shorter and you were nearly in tears when he pulled away.

“Wait, wait,” you begged in a whisper.

All of his lipstick was gone now. “This is fun,” he whispered back.

“You are a dead man,” you bit his ear. From below you could hear the droning of a homily. The story of Jesus being triumphant over death as you stripped your priest from his cumbersome robes.

“Maybe I’ll be triumphant instead,” he teased.

“Doubtful,” You brought one of the votive candles closer to you.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to be able to see what I’m doing. So that I can tend to you properly during the next song.”

Copia swallowed, knowing now that he was in danger. “It’s not my turn until you finish…”

“No, god is telling me to give you a turn. Come, sit with me on the ground where there’s more room.” You sat and he did as he was told, resting between your naked thighs, his back to your front. Slowly, you started teasing his shaft with your hand and he groaned. Your chin was on his shoulder as you whispered, “You know, treat others as you would like to be treated.”

“The song hasn’t started yet,” his stomach tightened with fear, he was no longer a young man and usually could not go multiple rounds. He didn’t want to ‘blow it’ and he was already impossibly hard.

You went easy on him at first, tracing the veins on his cock lazily with a finger, giving his sac a light massage. Even that was taxing for him. He looked at your face in the candlelight and all he saw was his god before him. He would fuck you all of this life and the next if he could. The song finally started and you began to jerk him off. You watched his tells carefully, you knew them well. Twice you stopped to give him light kisses to the temple while pre beaded dangerously at his tip. On the last verse you picked up the pace and were less watchful, nearly missing the twitch of his tip which is one of the last warnings. Without thinking you dripped some hot wax from the candle onto his chest to ruin his orgasm. He cried out, but there was no climax, just a dribble of cum and frustration. Oh, and of course steam from where the holy wax burned against his chest.

“Merda! Ah-ah-ah,” he stifled the cry against his bicep.

“Sorry, was that too much?” you asked. “I panicked.”

“It just surprised me,” he wheezed. The wax dried to his chest hair in white and black blotches as he caught his breath. “Please, let me in,” he begged, turning and pushing his hips against yours. Down below the priest was blessing the communion. Everyone was on their knees except you. You were laid out in the dim light.

“But there’s no music right now.” You whispered, hearing Latin coming from the altar.

The prayers made his blood run hotter in his veins, insides prickling. “I don’t care, let them hear true worship,” he groaned, nudging your entrance.

You opened for him, so wet he could hear it squelch as he pushed in.

“Satan, the ecstasy of finding my way inside you will kill me one day, Sorella,” he began pushing deeply in and out, eyes closing at the sensation.

Even after so many times together, your body lit up as he filled you. Pleasure synapses fired along your walls and within your core, ratcheting you closer to release. Copia heard the voices from below break out into song again-

I am the Bread of life, He who comes to Me shall not hunger,

This is indeed the bread of life. It brought sustenance to his dark soul. His fingers tangled in your hair as he kissed against your throat. I want to bite her. Eat her. She is all I need.

He who believes in Me shall not thirst.

Drink her blood. His teeth grazed your skin, and he sucked a hickey into your neck. He felt powerful marking you in this house of god. You were his communion. He could destroy you and devour you. He felt you begin to arch against him.

His white eye was glowing like a beacon as you felt the demonic vibrating within him, taking the controls. You loved having him like this, his thrusts getting rougher, sounds more difficult to contain.

The song ended, but Copia kept going. “In this house of god, will you let me spill my hellish seed into you?” he rasped.

You were on the verge. “Yes, yes,” you were wound so tight. From below, the final blessing was being bestowed.

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.

Copia growled at that loud enough that some looked around, but didn’t see the source. They broke out into the last song, louder than the rest. You felt the beginnings of your orgasm-

And He will raise you up on eagles' wings

Your thighs pulled him all the way in and held him.

Bear you on the breath of dawn

You felt yourself explode and cried out.

Make you to shine like the sun

Copia came loudly and began filling you. He nearly passed out at the intensity after building it up for the last hour. The holy candles around you were suddenly streaked in black jagged lines as if they had been struck by lightning and the flames all turned black as well.

And hold you in the palm of His hand

He tightened his hold on you, letting his darkness mix with your light. Concerned voices raised from below and there was a clatter as people dropped the stricken torches and began frantically evacuating the church. You felt none of that hurry as you lay contentedly pinned by the weight of your favorite Emeritus.

When you regained the use of your legs, the two of you reluctantly dressed and stumbled down the stairs, drunk on orgasms. After a look around to be sure the fires were extinguished and the church wasn’t going to actually burn down, your lover walked you out where a few dumbstruck congregants still stood trying to grasp what had happened. He ignored them as if nothing had happened. “Did you enjoy the full Umbra experience, Sorella?”

“It was quite wonderful,” you said, squeezing Copia’s hand. “It was only missing one thing…”

“A shadow fell across his features,” he was suddenly quite serious, “What did I do wrong, amore? Tell me, I’ll do better next time.”

“Needed cowbell,” you teased, pinching his nipple through his cassock.

“Fucking V and that fucking cowbell,” he muttered, slapping you on the ass as you climbed into the car for the short ride back to the ministry. Back to your bed and your church.

#the full umbra experience #umbra #fanfic smut #ao3 smut #frater imperator #blasphemy #the band ghost #church sex

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