“Holy Shit!'” Diana screamed as she climaxed.
Ian grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, tugging her chin up towards the ceiling. After thirty more seconds of unrestrained thrusts, he moaned softly and rested his face on her lower back. Almost immediately after he came, he began to kiss her backside; moving in concentric circles, the priest started with her buttocks and then made his way up to her neck.
It had already been three weeks since Diana and Father Ian Gill began their affair. Time flies when people find a way to obtain happiness in an otherwise dull existence. They were used to living at ten miles per hour, but now they were redlining the speedometer.
At twenty-nine, Ian had lost his calling. Trying in vain to fake it till he made it, he’d been going through the motions. An orphan since birth, he was raised in the Catholic school system. A benevolent priest took him under his wing and saved his life in more ways than one. He thought becoming a priest and paying the kindness that he received forward would give him a sense of purpose and fill the parent-sized void in his heart. It almost did initially, but the curtain began to peel back and Ian became disturbed and disillusioned by the church’s politics. Piece by piece, he lost his faith. The vow of celibacy was the last remnant of that mindset to go.
Diana was thirty-three and had been trapped in a lifeless marriage since she was twenty. A strict upbringing and an alcoholic father made her jump at the first available chance to leave her father’s house. Unfortunately, her codependent childhood ensured that she’d pick a carbon copy of her father as a husband. Rick was a fucking asshole. She’d been trapped for thirteen years; there was always a valid excuse for staying. But they all boiled down to her fear of leaving him. What possibilities awaited in the unknown, she’d frequently wondered.
They’d both played it safe for too long. The adulterers condensed as much indiscretion and passion as possible in the short time since they’d found each other. After all, they were making up for lost time.
Five minutes had passed since he came but he couldn’t bring himself to pull out. Like a home that he’d never had, but one that he always knew existed, her vagina’s warmth was too comforting to leave. It needed to be cherished. He’d caressed virtually every square inch of her backside with his lips. Still a neophyte in the discipline of sex etiquette, he began to pull his still fully erect penis out of the warm place.
“Wait!” she yelled.
“I figured you didn’t want your spluge all over your bedsheets, Father.” Diana cupped her vagina and stood up.
“Oh, right. That was a slight oversight on my part. I like to keep the members of my congregation on their toes. Keeps things from getting too predictable.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, you curled my toes a few minutes ago.”
“I think I’ve found my calling.”
“You.” His ecstatic smile brought out hers.
Blushing like a teenage girl, Diana waddled to the bathroom as gracefully as she could without letting the fresh seed inside of her drip onto the floor. She hated condoms. She’d taken Ian’s virginity and, unbeknownst to her clueless husband, Rick, she had gotten an IUD a year prior. A ‘devout’ Catholic, Rick would have bounced her off the walls had he known the truth. Diana suspected that she was infertile, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She wasn’t going to bring another child into an alcoholic family. But even more important, she loved the feeling of Ian raw-dogging her.
The fourth and final orgasm that the priest had blessed her with overloaded her nerves with an orgy of electric bliss. She felt like she’d taken mushrooms or LSD; the near-hallucinogenic fogginess that followed the afternoon love-making session made it difficult for her to not fall over. Diana could tell that Ian enjoyed watching her stumble, that he took great pleasure in giving her pleasure, that he was intoxicated with her carnal knowledge.
“You look like you’re drunk.” he teased.
Diana made it to the bathroom, which faced the bed and sat down on the toilet.
“I think I might be.” she replied as she wiped.
She leaned over to her left so that she could see Ian from her perch. He was laying on his side and staring back at her. Since romance wasn’t an option, he used fitness as a way to pass the time when he wasn’t ministering to his flock. Diana firmly believed that this was a smart investment of his time. The light that was able to creep through the window made his sweat-glazed torso glisten like a shiny new car, one that Diana had thoroughly enjoyed riding. Despite her post-coital satisfaction, the chiseled trenches of Ian’s stomach and the pulsating vascularity of his arms were already rekindling her near-insatiable lust for the good shepherd’s cock.
Fascinated by its persistence, Ian stared at his penis. Despite a full and satisfactory ejaculation, the blood declined to leave its phallic palace. When he masturbated in private, his penis was always flaccid thirty seconds after an orgasm.
Diana flushed the toilet, washed her hands and then leaned against the bathroom door frame. She looked in the mirror and smiled at what she saw, a vibrant woman that had been set free from the control of an abusive husband, a woman undeterred by antiquated taboos and norms, a woman that wouldn’t give up on herself. The scars from her husband’s most recent bout of rage had faded; the mirror only reflected beauty back at her.
She took a brief stroll down memory lane and fondly remembered how the affair began. She’d taken control of her destiny. Diana wanted the priest, so she seduced him. Careful to be the evening’s last parishioner, she went to confessional and confessed that she wanted to fuck his brains out. Fully reciprocating her lust and having lost his faith, he obliged. They christened the confessional booth with a blasphemous concoction of sweat, vaginal lubricant and semen. Ian joked that he hoped that no one would ever get murdered in the booth because they’d be the number one suspects since their DNA was everywhere.
A slapping noise jolted Diana back to the present moment. She turned towards her lover, who seemed to be discovering his penis for the first time. He was smacking it against his abdomen. She chuckled at his boyish fascination.
“Is your cock making a confession?”
“No. I didn’t know I could stay hard for this long after sex. I’m a little impressed with myself”
“You ready to retire celibacy as a sustainable way of life?” she winked at him.
“I’ve been ready to ditch it for a long time, but I never knew how. Until you came along and propositioned me.”
Diana sat down on the bed next to him and grabbed the priest’s persistent prick.
“Wow. That is hard, Father. Quite a fine cock you have there. When is the monsignor going to be back?”
“He’s gone for five days to confer with the archdiocese on next year’s budget. I have the rectory all to myself.”
“Then we shouldn’t waste a perfectly good hard-on.” Diana climbed onto Ian’s pelvis and inserted his erection inside her.
“How much longer before your husband wonders why you’re not home?”
Diana slapped him across his face. It was light enough to not cause serious pain but more than hard enough to get his attention.
“Why the hell did you do that?” He touched the point of impact with his hand.
“Please don’t ever mention my husband when we’re fucking.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Once again, Ian obliged and gave the lost sheep exactly what she wanted. Diligently savoring every texture and every taste, he pulled her close and carefully traced the landscape of her breasts with his tongue. He rather enjoyed having the rectory all to himself.