#preist leon s kennedy

[cool-cowboy]

Summary:

In which Leon is the priest of your church, a very kind and noble man, who you, against the church’s (and your shitty husband’s) wishes have grown quite fond of, confession being one of the few times you get to relish the one on one attention. Little do you know, your godly priest has been having some not so godly thoughts about you as well.

I have literally no idea. Leon in a sweet caring kind of way, but kinda out of character, since he's a 1600's priest and speaks hopefully like one. A bit of a historical thing, the idea popped into my head and I did some research, and found out it used to be pretty common for married women to enjoy their confessions, often falling for the men on the other side of the wall.

Tags:

Alternate Universe - Medieval, Catholicism, Catholic Guilt, Adultery, Confessional Sex, sex in the confession booth, Dominant Leon S. Kennedy, Dirty Talk, Clothed Sex, Priests, Priest Leon S. Kennedy, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Making Out, Semi-Public Sex, Eye Contact, Penis In Vagina Sex, Come Shot, Skirts

Blurb:

“You find me godly?”

“Perfectly… Though you are the cause of many other's sins, so perhaps you are sinful…”

Text:

“Bless me father, for I have sinned. My last confession was Wednesday.” He’s staring at me, in his usual way, open and accepting, ready to hear all about my wrong-doings, one of them a cardinal sin, no less. I’m not sure what it is, why he has such a draw, roping me in and making me forget my teachings over and over, his looks and person much too sinful for such a godly man. “I was rude, I spoke unkind words to Stephan. I refused him… When, um, when he-”

“There is no judgment here, only forgiveness. There’s no need to be nervous.” I nod, not looking at him, embarrassed to be confessing yet another tiff with my husband, sure the father is tired of hearing about my disrespect. He reaches through the little door, something he’s not supposed to do, but often does, getting my attention or soothing me down after a particularly nasty sin is disclosed, something that only causes further sin, the feel of his kind hands always forcing some further than friendly thoughts into my mind, never fessed up in my confessions, which is probably my biggest offense to god to date. He makes me look at him, tilts my head up by my chin, stares at me in his quiet, sweet way, soft eyes always able to draw out my deepest secrets without much prompt. “Tell me.” He always seems more interested to hear about my transgressions toward my husband, for why I don’t know, but it’s better than the harsh judgement of my childhood priest, anyways, so I try not to dwell too much.

“He wanted to… Bed me. I refused… It’s my duty to bear children, but I- He isn’t… I hate him.” The truth, something I’ve been toeing the line of for a while, only confessing the passing sins rather than my most heinous one, but he’s known all along, doesn’t seem surprised at all when I meet his eyes, maybe a little amused, but I don’t believe that, he has no reason to be, only reason to assign me a hefty penance.

“I see… That is… Quite the confession. Don’t look so fearful, miss, you know I’m a believer in earning your keep, and it doesn’t seem Mr. Belman is trying his best to do so.” My throat’s dry, my swallow barely making it down, his eyes on my making me sweat, my skirts making me feel a little faint, claustrophobic in the small booth. “A bad man does not deserve a woman as godly as you, at least I don’t see him as fit.” He’s not meant to give his opinion, only fact, that or prompt me to better help me lay my secrets out to him, but he always tries to make me feel better, in a way, for the wrongs I’ve committed, well aware of my repentance, and my desire to do better.

“You find me godly?” I’m really not, most ladies who attend the mass are a whole lot more godly than me, almost perfect Catholics. He smiles, soft and kind, making me sin all over again, though I’m unsure what I can do to keep from sinning in this way, my thoughts not easily controlled, especially for him, a man no woman has ever had the pleasure of pleasing, a man who’s devoted his whole being to serving the lord, but still manages to be entirely enticing, his unattainableness adding a sinful edge to his allure.

“Perfectly… Though you are the cause of many other's sins, so perhaps you are sinful…” He’s amused, and I’m confused, not an idea what he means by that. I stare at him, not incredibly eager to get on with my confession, more than willing to let him keep talking as long as he likes. “You’re an object of many’s affections, miss, and envy as well…” He’s going against his oath, speaking of other’s sins outside their own confessions, giving me a shred of all that he knows, offering it up with a relaxed expression, watching me, assumedly waiting on me to continue telling him, but I’m not ready yet, need a little longer, a few more moments of his soft stare before I tell him, tear down the image he’s painted of me in his head, desecrate his idea of me.

“Father..? Who do you confess to?” He smiles, only a little, amused for some secret reason, his gaze a little hazy, his hands smoothing down the front of his robe, the sound of him clearing his throat a little loud in the small space.

“Myself, I suppose… Though there’s something I find more suitable to confess to you.” My brows draw down, unsure why he’d have anything to confess to me, if he’s able to repent and move on without any type of formal confession, but I wait patiently, not wanting to sin again by disrespecting the father. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, just stares at me with his head tilted a little to one side, his gaze hazy, his smile barely pulling at one side of his lips, his face close to mine, just on the other side of the little confessional door, his breath warm on my skin. “Forgive me miss, for I have sinned.” He watches me, signing a cross over his chest, a little slow, the anticipation making me feel feverish, wet palms wiped on the front of my skirts while I wait, not bringing my eyes from him, wary to miss a second of his terribly enticing gaze. “I have committed the sin of lust. My craving for you is ungodly, and I have performed self-pleasing adultery to the mere thought of you too many times to count.” I have not a single clue what to say, just stay perfectly still, feeling sick at the pleased feeling burning my skin, flaming and not at all what I should feel in response to his reveal.

“Father, I-”

“I am sorry for this and all my sins.” He doesn’t seem sorry, more confused, staring at me in a way that makes me near fainting, all heat and intensity, trying to unravel his own desires. “You may continue.” I swallow, looking down at my hands, now much too afraid to tell him, to reciprocate his lust, unable to do anything about it, aware I’m bound to Stephan, and he is never to be wed.

“I told a lie.” It isn’t something I usually need to confess, I’m not even sure why I did it, needlessly covering up my actions to keep Stephan as far from figuring out my adulterous thoughts as possible, though he’d never suspect a tryst between the father and I. “I told Stephan I was going to the market on Wednesday, when I came to see you.” I let my eyes come up, flitting from my lap to his hands, clasped over his lap, up to his face, seeming a little pleased, adding to my unease, his feelings now out in the open, glad to be a subject of sin for me as well, I suppose. The others are being noisy, the church overly full today, the last session before Christmas, eager to be forgiven.

“Why did you lie?” I look back down, unwilling to look at him when I tell him, give him the satisfaction of reciprocated lustful feelings and actions.

“I didn’t want him to become suspicious.” He hums, ducking down a little to draw my eyes back up, looking at me pleasedly, not at all bashful in the way he should be, never the one to be shy, always so open, even now, after he’s told me about his self-pleasing to me.

“Suspicious?” He’s enjoying himself, too casual to be questioning me about what has become so glaringly obvious, backing me into a figurative corner and forcing it out of me, something he’s entirely too good at, receiving confession after confession and helping numerous work through their own minds.

“I have committed the sin of lust.” He’s looking at me, not that I can see, my eyes cast down at his hands, listening to the sounds of people mulling about outside, stretching out the quiet between us to steel myself for what I say next. “I’ve been having impure thoughts about you, father. Please forgive me.” He hums, one of his hands lifting up out of my view, this whole thing making me feel sick from guilt, adulterous behavior one of the few things I never thought would be something I’d have to speak to him about.

“Is that all?” I nod, finally looking at him, his eyes always on me, never showing me any less attention, offering up his services in maybe a little less selfless of a way than I used to suspect. “Then I assume it’s time to assign your penance…” He runs his hand down over his lap, his other in the space of the little window, gripped over the little ledge there, crossing over into my space, the hand on his lap drawing back up slowly, his eyes a little cloudy, dazed, almost. “I have to say… The lord will forgive you, no matter the sin, miss, you’re saved.” It seems almost like a suggestion, though maybe I’m just imagining it, hoping for something I really and truly shouldn’t, something the opposite of righteous, one of the most evil and depraved wants possible. “Perhaps… Indulgence is our solution.” He stares at me, unmoving, giving me the choice, offering something so enticing, so terrible in nature I’d be damned to accept, looking at me in such a bold way after uttering something so forward.

“Father… Are you suggesting..?” He’s touching me, running rough fingers over the side of my jaw, our faces close, closer now that he’s leaning toward the little window, all of him seeming larger, more masculine than I would usually find him, his comfort fading into a simmering nervousness as I wait on his reply.

“I’ve satisfied myself in your name countless times, miss, and not once has it settled the need, not even diminished it, only choked it down until I can’t keep it at bay any longer. I am a man of God, but with all my devotion you’re the one and only thing I’ve ever found myself helpless to resist.” My breathing’s gone uneven, his hands on my face and in his lap, stroking softly, both soothing me and indulging in his desire, a soldier of God, succumbing to the same earthly pleasures as me. “Our penance. Finding a way to dispel this need, holding ourselves accountable for time spent lost in the other, returning that time to our father, pleading his forgiveness for our frailties.” He’s leaning close, face nearly passing the frame of the window, eyes cast down at my lips, his parted and slick, all of him so very enticing, especially like this, so far gone he can’t even deny himself this, and neither can I, my lips flush with his the next second, sealing my fate, an adulterer and a sinner, depraved and dirty and lustful, all for him.

The kiss is nothing like what I’ve come to expect, separate from the necessary, rushed kisses of my husband, this kiss searing, sending a wave of heat over me, the passion of it making me faint, all the want I’ve been keeping quiet to myself passing between us, his hand slipping back and into my hair, keeping me close, our indiscretion between only us and God, a sin kept quiet, the act horrible, but so satisfying I have no reason to believe God would be against me indulging.

“Father…” We’re both breathing heavy, lost in the admittance and act of sin, his hair messier than I’ve ever seen it, his lips rosy and shiny with shared saliva. “The others are waiting…” He sighs, drawing me back in by his grip on my hair, speaking in his quiet, comforting way half an inch from my lips.

“And they will.” He gives me no time to offer a response, goes back to pressing warm, careful kisses to my lips, his pace a little faster, his breathing shaky as mine, the booth heating up from labored breaths, muggy and heavy with shared desire. “Lord… You’re… Truly breathtaking… A temptress… My own personal test…” He pulls back, letting go of me, standing himself up, face hidden behind the wood above the window, his waist a little below my eye level, his robes hanging heavy, a reminder of his promise to the lord, now broken. “I’ve failed our father… But I will not fail you… Sink to the floor, miss, show me your devotion to your penance.” I meet his command, slipping off the bench and onto my knees, a little unsure, not quite understanding why I’d be on the floor if he intends to take me. “I’ll tend to you shortly, miss, just- for now… I need a bit of preparation.” He shuffles his robes out of the way, exposing himself to me, his manhood larger than I thought possible, more than twice the size of my husband’s, and I wonder how it’ll fit, if it can. “Take me inside your mouth, miss. Close your perfect lips around me and let me feel what I've long awaited.” He’s holding onto himself, waiting for me to comply while running his hand up and down, his body revealed to me for the first time, unexpectedly muscular, legs and some of his midsection bare for my greedy eyes.

I close my lips over him, only the first inch, unsure what he wants me to do, his hand leaving its place to stroke across my jaw, back into my hair, gripping what slips between his fingers, his hand pulling me in, sliding himself inside my mouth, a small pleasured sound passing his lips sending an odd sensation through me, some sickly hot satisfaction. He’s leaning his free arm on the wood above me, his head downturned, his eyes hidden from my view by the wood of the booth, his mouth gaping in pleasure, his chest heaving beneath his robes, cross around his neck swinging as he moves against me, a reminder of our frailty, our unworthiness of God’s image.

“Ah- You’re… This feeling is… Lord forgive me… For I will sin again…” His teeth are gritted, his hand pulling me in a little closer, my throat tightening around him startling me, his pleasured noise deep and pleasant when I press my hands to his thighs to get a breath, sputtering embarrassingly, his hand smoothing my hair helping me calm back down. “Forgive me… I got carried away…” He’s ducked down to look at me, seeming perturbed, stroking at my hair, his cross drawing my eyes before I look back up at him, slipping my fingers up the underside of his manhood, watching him, his pleasured noise sending a searing shock down to my privates, my mouth closing back around him, moving on my own, humming when he allows it, just keeps his hand on the back of my head, guiding me, his head rested back on his forearm, my eyes on the lower half of his face, the portion I can see, his expression looking pained from the pleasure, teeth ground tight, jaw clenched with stress, my hand running over his exposed stomach making him flinch, his length twitching between my lips. “Wicked girl… You’re-hah- ruining me… Turned me into a damned-!” He pulls me back, my lips leaving him with an obscene amount of saliva, smeared over him and connecting him back to my lips, his hand slipping forward to tilt my head up toward him, his eyes back in my view, looking down at me, his thumb stroking the mess on my lips. "I won’t let this end until I’ve shown you all that a lover can be, miss. Surely this isn’t what you’ve sought after… I can offer you more… you need only relax and let me show you…” He wraps his fingers over my bicep, pulling me gently up until I stand before him, his hand pushing me gently back to seated on the little bench, his fingers finding my upper legs through layers of skirts, running slowly up, giving me an awful sense of yearning, the feeling pleasurably painful, sickening, his cross swinging at eye level while he's doubled over reminding me I should be ashamed to be satisfied in any way from something so heinous.

“Father, what’re you-” He drags me, fingers tight on my legs, pulling me until my hips rest on the six inches of wood separating my space and his, my upper body laid on the bench, propped on my elbows, only a couple inches lower than the window.

“You’ve bewitched me, truly… Made me insatiable… My lust for you is painful, forcing me to succumb to your allure time and time again… Now you’ll see what you’ve done to me, feel the craving- the need I have for you, firsthand…” He sinks to his knees, keeping his eyes on my face, my elbows digging into the wood a little uncomfortable, but the look in his eyes keeps me from breaking my gaze from his, watching him as he pushes up on my skirts, leaving them pooled at my waist, my undergarments unobscured, his hand making its way back down to grip to my ankle, his skin scalding hot against me, lifting until my leg is in line with his lips, his head turned to the side to press his lips to my inner ankle, his gaze on me as he trails his way up, leaving saliva along his path up the inside of my leg, the whole display more pleasurable than probably anything I’ve ever experienced. “I know how to please you… I’ll be sure to satisfy your ungodly desires… Leave you so perfectly complacent you’ll never let anyone else bed you…” He finishes his kissing, pausing with his lips pressed to my lower thigh, easing my foot down on the bench just behind him, my knee bent, his hand moving to my other ankle, easing it up to repeat the process, drawing it out, kissing unbearably slow, looking at me in a lustful, entirely sinful way.

“Father? It’s… There are people outside… Shouldn’t we… Hurry this along?” He smiles, eyes creasing in such a beautiful way, his hand guiding my foot to rest on his other side, his head between them, shoulders just below my knees.

“Impatient woman… Confess it.” He lets his hands slide up the outsides of my legs, fingers pausing on the waist of my undergarments, his eyes peering at me, intense and masculine, commanding in his calm, even-toned way. I’m having trouble keeping my breathing even, the anticipation of his promise hanging heavy, blanketing the cramped space, the people milling about outside the booth making me wary to be caught.

“I have committed the sin of impatience. I don’t want to wait, forgive me.” He smiles, pulling down, exposing me to him, pulling my legs back one after the other to rid me of the pesky clothing, his eyes cast down once he’s finished, his expression clouded and lustful, his chest heaving, eyes a little low as he takes me in, bare before him, willing and ready to commit a cardinal sin for him.

“You’re forgiven… Now I must confess…” He leans forward, hands sliding up the back of my thighs before gripping to my skin, both of us clammed up from the suffocating heat of the space, his warm breath against me making me shiver. “I have committed the sin of envy… Stephan is the luckiest man in history… To have a woman as phenomenal as you… I’m truly envious, in utter disbelief he has not a clue how incredibly beautiful you look when you enjoy yourself…” He presses a finger against me, startling me, all of this foreign, his thumb trailing up wetness that usually comes much later, once Stephan is nearly done, his slippery finger pressing a couple inches above my entrance making me flinch, the feeling shocking, pleasant in a tight, unexpected fashion. “Ah… Perfection… I wasn’t sure… But that monk really did figure out the secrets of women…” I have no idea what he’s speaking about, all I know is this pleasure is foreign, tight and nearly too much, his thumb rubbing softly up and down as he watches me, seeming pleased to confirm I can feel in this way. “I was told a woman can achieve the same type of euphoria as men… I hope I’m well-equipped enough to give you at least one climax… I’ll try my best, miss, in God’s name.” I’m trembling, the feeling building into something far more than what it began, a sickening tension, my muscles wound tight, teeth gnashed and head leaned back onto the wall, his thumb pulling away releasing the tension building, his look amused.

“What’s… Why..?” He laughs, fanning hot air against me, his lips pressing to the place his thumb just left, his smile widening when I gasp and squirm, bag hands on my thighs holding me still as he uses his tongue, letting out a soft pleasured noise at the flavor, or the action, I’m not entirely sure.

“Forgive me… I couldn’t go without a taste… My god… You’re the most divine thing I’ve ever laid eyes on… the most raw and formidable temptation I’ve ever had the pleasure of letting ruin me…” He’s rubbing me again, pressure more firm than before, sure of himself, the satisfying tension coming back quicker than before, my eyes on him, the sight of him with my wetness smeared over his skin drawing a pleasured noise from deep in my chest, my breathing more frantic than I can ever remember, my legs trembling lightly from his ministrations, his gaze holding mine, his skin a rosy pink, lips flushed red. “You are my ultimate desire… An itch that has been gnawing, working away at me… Tearing me away from the lord… luring me into a pleasant trap…” I’m barely registering his low words, drawled with his cheek pressed to my skin, the tight pleasure clouding my mind, blanketing me in the feeling. “You’re nearly there… So beautiful… Keep your eyes on me… Face what you’ve done… Given into lust… Taken me down your depraved path as well… Don’t fret, your sins are forgiven… So get on with it, show me how blasphemous you are… deriving pleasure from being bedded, let this be for your pleasure and that alone… There, that’s it, you’re doing so well, trembling so beautifully, making those sweet sounds for me…” The feeling peaks, my body convulsing, drawing in on itself, the pleasure hot and tight, all of me clenched tight, his fingers pausing, my eyes barely open to heed his order, looking into his eyes, his expression pleased and lax. “I could never receive enough of this… Watching you come undone before me, my actions giving you this much pleasure…” I feel droopy when I come down, slumped on the bench, legs lax and open around his head, his expression entirely pleased, glad. “Let me inside.” He pulls me, and I let him, stood up in front of him after a few seconds, waiting on him to sink inside, my skirts and his robes making it seem nearly impossible, but he doesn’t make any move to bury himself inside, only meets my lips in a searing kiss, his body flush against mine, pressing me into the wall of the booth, my body feeling overly hot, both of us sweating, his face shiny with perspiration and my mess he’s neglected to wipe away.

“Father… Please… I’ve already confessed my impatience.” He laughs, low and sinful, the softened pleasure coming back, my body ready for him, likely more ready than ever before. He pulls up on my skirts, though they’re getting in the way, bunched up to my waist when he gives me a look, pressing my hand overtop my lower abdomen to hold them up, his hand gripping his manhood, pressing toward my entrance, rubbing lightly at that pleasurable spot, my low pleased noise muffled in the chest of his robe, his cross pressed cold to my overheating cheek.

“I wouldn’t like to hurt you… express any discomfort, miss, I’ll move slowly…” He pushes, pressing slowly inside, the feeling a little like the sting of antiseptic, his length and girth well over what I’m used to, but not painful, the wetness he caused allowing him to slip inside without incident, pressing tight inside, the full feeling filling some carnal, animalistic desire. “I’ll spill it outside… I won’t desecrate you too harshly…” He pulls back, pressing back inside equally slow, his hand sliding down to clasp around the inner side of my knee, drawing it up to parallel with my hip, his eyes on mine as he moves, slow, passionate and careful in a perfectly unexplainable way, the pleasing feeling of his eyes on mine prompting me to let my head lean back onto the wood, gazing up at him in a way that is surely embarrassingly wanton, but he doesn’t mind, just tucks his chin, gazing down at the place we’re connected, brows drawing together as a low rumble rips through his chest. “Is this… Are you in-hah- pain?” I shake my head, holding up my skirts a little higher, my other hand trapped between my chest and his stomach, gripped tight to his robes. “Confess… Bare your sins to the-ah lord-!” He speeds up his movement, the sound of skin hitting skin tearing pleased noises out of the both of us, his grip going a little tighter on my knee, his eyes holding mine captive, staring at me in an obscene fashion, pained and pleasured and anguished and adoring all at once.

“I-ah- I’m committing the-hah- the sin of-! Adultery-! I-hnn- I couldn’t resist the- the father… Please-ah- please forgive-! Me-!” Speaking isn’t all that easy, his manhood hitting the deepest parts of me, only a little painful, mostly pleasing, his thumb moving back to that spot making me keen, my face pressed to his chest until it passes, his movement gaining a steady, quick rhythm, his thumb moving in time with his hips, his breathing labored and shaky.

“Forgive us-Nnh- for we have sinned… Miss-ah-! I will now-hah- close the-Hnn-!” He ducks his head down, face pressed to the crook of my neck, his body shaking against me, mine against him, all of us ruined, torn apart from the need burning inside, a desire satiated only by action. “God the- the father of mercies-hah- Through-Nnh-! The death and resurrection of his son-ah- son-! As recon-hah-ciled by the-hnn- the uh-Nnh-!” He’s losing himself, and his teachings, mind too full of lust to recall his closing prayer, his hips pressing to mine in an almost animalistic fashion, rutting with the force of a needy dog, his head pulled back to look at me, his expression sinfully beautiful, all of him wet with sweat, red, his eyes low, held open by his need to see himself ruin me, make me into something just as terribly and fully depraved as him. “You really are-hah- the perfect temptation-nnh- In a world full of sinners we’re-ngh- only two of millions… If this costs me my spot in heaven so- so be it, this is my own-Nnh-! personal heaven, buried inside and gazing into your eyes-!…” He’s panting, and so am I, both of us near the inevitable high, shaking and releasing low noises into the space between us, our gazes locked, the eye contact offering a passion and sickening tension, spurring me closer, his thumb moving with harsh pressure, sending me near insanity, his quick thrusts driving me up the wall, his low words rushed and raspy, groaned out and whiny, nearly sounding pleading, his expression gone fearful, distraught at his own pleasure. “The world to- himself and sent the- the-nnh-!” He leans his head back, eyes closing and a loud groan ripping out of him, the sight drawing a decidedly needy noise out of me, my eyes trailing down to his cross, just in front of my face, bouncing agonist his chest, condemning me, my transgression seen and judged by God. “Damnit-! Sent to us- for the-ah- forgiveness ‘f sins-! Through the minis-ah- may god give-nnh-! May god give us pardon- yes-ah- and peace-nnh- I-ah-ab-oh- absolve-!” He slows down, both of us coming down from the near climax, his eyes coming back to me, forehead pressed to mine, his hips working in more of and arc like motion, the feeling of him dragging inside tearing an overly wanton sound from me, his eyes watching me as he draws this out, keeps us both teetering, giving himself a moment to finish his broken prayer. “I absolve you of your-ah- sins, and myself of- of mine…” He takes a few more seconds, pressing inside slowly, keeping his eyes on mine, bright blue shadowed by his hair, messy and sweaty, before he speeds back up, sinking inside over and over again at a pace that seems inhuman, his body impossibly tight to mine, the feeling of nearness coming back, my release denied now back to ruin me, leave evidence of my sin. “In the-ah- name of the- the father-! And of-hah- the-nnh- son and the-! The-ah- holy-hnn-! Spirit!” I’m squeezing him, my body almost uncontrollable when I clench and shake from pleasure, head tilted back and my eyes on his as he pulls out, leaving me empty, his seed spilled over the front of my thigh, trails dripping and soaking my skin, his release enticingly sensual to watch, a raw kind of experience, my mind hazy and full of him, watching him until he’s done, my leg returned to standing, his hands gently smoothing my skirt over both our messes. “Amen.”

“Amen.”