Father Uriel’s POV
The silence in the confessional was thick with sin and possibility. Tia’s final confession hung in the air like incense— “...even right now, as we speak… I’m still feeling it. I’m horny again. I’m sitting here in the confessional, wet and aching between my legs, and I hate myself so much for it.”
My c**k stirred hard beneath my cassock. This beautiful, devout young woman had just bared the deepest, most shameful part of her soul to me, and the extreme religious taboo of it all sent a dark, powerful thrill through my veins.
I had waited patiently for this moment, for a lost lamb like Tia to fall so perfectly into my hands.
“Tia,” I said, my voice low, authoritative, and filled with paternal care, “ordinary penance and a few Hail Marys will not be enough for this leve
