Love in Red Numbers

THE PRIEST CONFESSION:

The confessional at St. Augustine was an ancient oak, worn smooth by centuries of whispered sins.

At 11:47 p.m. the church was empty, moonlight slicing through the stained-glass rose window in bleeding shards of crimson . Father Elias Moreau knelt on the priest’s side, the rosary wrapped so tightly around his knuckles, the ivory beads had begun to cut.

He was twenty-nine, ordained two years ago, and had never for once broken his vow of chastity. Not even in the seminary showers when the older boys laughed and stroked themselves under the shower.

He had simply closed his eyes and recited the Litany of the Saints, until the urge passed. But Tonight, the litany felt very far away.

The kneeler on the repentant side creaked.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

The voice was low, smoky and so familiar. it was no one other than Delphine de Rochefort_thirty-eight years old widow, whose husband Comte de Rochefort, died last six months.

Every Sunday, she sat in the front seat, dressed in a mourning black dress, Her veil was so thick that no one could see her eyes.

Father Elias had noticed the way her gloved fingers twisted the rosary, the way her full breasts rose and fell beneath her dress when she breathed.

“It has been six months since my last confession,”

she continued. “And every night after my husband died, I have burned from the pent up desire.”

Elias swallowed. “Go on, my child.”

Her amused expression, soft and beautiful, complimented her provocative looks today.

“I am tormented by the flesh, Father." I lie in that cold marital bed and imagine the most depraved acts. at every given moment, I spread my legs and touch myself constantly until I weep with the shame of intense longing. While I picture a priest, young and handsome, tearing his cassock open and forcing his huge cock deep inside me while I beg God for forgiveness.”

The rosary snapped. Beads scattered across the stone floor like hailstones.

Elias’s cock surged against the rough wool of his cassock, instantly active and agonizing.

He has never had an erection this sudden and violent. since he was fifteen.

He shifted constantly, trying to hide his ridged cock, but the movement only made the fabric drag across the sensitive cap of his cock. fueling his emotions of desire even more.

“These are grave temptations of the Devil,” he rasped.

“They are not temptations father,” Delphine murmured.

"I am just craving something different and hotter than usual. something only you, can satisfy. "She giggled"

Tonight father, I wore nothing beneath my dress and sat in your church with my thighs wide open under the skirt, praying you would notice and sniff the scent of my cunt drifting up to the altar.”

Elias felt his breath stopped entirely. hating how how his body reacted provocatively to her enticing voice.

“I am all wet right now. Totally Drenched from the thought of you. If you reach through this screen you could slide your sacred fingers straight into me. I would come instantly just from the blasphemy of your holy hand inside a sinner.”

Elias’s mouth went dry. “Child—”

“Say my name,” she interrupted softly. “Say it while you imagine tasting me.”

He should have long rang the bell for the sacristan. Should have at least attempted fleeing from this temptation. Instead he heard himself whisper, “Delphine as she demanded.”

"A pleased hum, Good boy." Now listen carefully, Father Elias. Every night I fuck myself with three fingers and pretend they are yours. I whisper the Act of Contrition while I rub my throbbing clit raw. and I come screaming your name into my pillow, so my servants won’t hear me.

Every morning I kneel at your Mass with your seed still drying between my thighs, because every morning I imagined you filled me the night before.”

The lattice between them suddenly felt paper-thin. He could smell her now; rosewater, church incense, and beneath it, the unmistakable musk of an aroused woman.

“Tell me your penance?” she said. her voice trembling with excitement.

“Or I will stand in the town square tomorrow and tell the entire village what I just confessed. and be certain that I will eventually tell a very convincing story of how you tried rapping me right here.”

Silence stretched, thick and suffocating between them.

Then, Elias voice, so aroused and low but loud enough for her hearing alone: “Open the door, Delphine. Just a crack.”

His hands moved without permission. The confessional door creaked open three inches out. Moonlight spilled across her face.

Her black veil was pushed back; her lips were painted crimson, eyes glittering like a predator who had successfully captured its prey.

She has breathtaking high cheekbones, with a creamy throat, highlighting the swell of her breasts straining against her black silky dress, begging to be freed.

Without breaking eye contact, she gathered her skirt to her waist. No petticoats. No drawers. Only a smooth stocking thighs, framing her bare, glistening cunt. Her inner lips were already swollen, flushed dark rose, slick with arousal that gleamed in the colored light.

“Ohhh fuckk!!. please Touch me father,” she breathed. “just One stroke. Then you may run if you still can.”

His trembling right hand Immediately crossed the threshold. The moment his fingertips brushed hers, she sighed like a woman finally receiving communion.

She was so slippery and impossibly soft.

He traced her pussy lips once. then Her hips rolled forward greedily, visibly begging for more.

“Inside now,” she commanded.

He pushed two fingers into her cunt without thinking. She clenched hard, a broken moan escaping her throat. as her walls clenched around him, hot and wet and alive.

Yeess… deeper, Father. "She moaned" arching her breast forward..... Pretend it’s your cock violating every vow you've ever made.”

He pumped helplessly, thumb finding the hard pearl of her clit. She rode his hand shamelessly, skirts bunched at her waist, breasts heaving.

Within a minute her thighs began to shake.

“fuckk!! this is sweeter than my imaginations, I’m about to come on a priest’s fingers,” she panted. “right here, In God’s house. While you watch.”

Her orgasm hit like a storm. She bit down on her own wrist to muffle the scream, but the wet sounds of his fingers fucking her through it echoed obscenely in the silent church. Juices flooded his palm, ran down his wrist, soaked the cuff of his cassock, the evidence utterly clear and incriminating..

When the spasms finally faded, she pulled his hand free and brought it to her mouth. One by one she licked his fingers clean, tongue swirling, eyes locked on his the entire time.

“Tomorrow night,” she whispered, releasing him. “Leave the door unlocked. And wear nothing beneath your cassock, Father. I want to feel the skin God gave you when you damn us both.”

She stood, smoothed her skirts, and walked out without another word. The heavy church door thudded shut behind her.

Elias remained kneeling, hand still wet, cock throbbing so painfully he could barely breathe. He stared at the scattered rosary beads on the floor and realized he was now a lost soul.

He did not sleep. He knelt before the tabernacle until dawn, forehead pressed to the cold marble step, whispering every prayer he knew while his untouched cock leaked steadily into his underclothes.

At 6:00 a.m. he celebrated Mass with her scent still on his fingers. When he raised the Host, his hands shook so badly that the chalice veil almost slipped.

Delphine was in the front seat as always, veil lifted just enough for him to see her smile.

She mouthed two words he would carry like brands for the rest of his life:

Tonight, Father.