His pleas echoed in the confessional, raw and desperate, as Maria and I dismounted his slick face, our thighs glistening with his tears and our own arousal. Father Elias lay there, chest heaving, his virgin c**k still semi-hard and twitching from the aftershocks of his second release. c*m streaked his cassock, mixing with the sweat beading on his pale skin, and his lips shone with our juices, swollen from the relentless grinding. The air hung thick with the musky scent of s*x—salty semen, tangy p***y, and the faint incense from the altar beyond.
I slid down his body, feeling the heat radiating from his feverish skin through the thin fabric. 'Look at you, Father,' I whispered, my breath hot against his ear, nipping the lobe until he shivered. 'All broken and begging like a w***e in heat. B
