Lusting over Father Liam 1

GRACE’S POV

Sundays were for church.

This much was clear in my parents’ house, and not attending meant yelling and lectures I wasn’t interested in.

So every Sunday since I was seven, there I was, in church, thinking of things I shouldn’t. It used to be toys, games, school, and what ice cream flavour I’d get after playing the good girl in church. That bit didn’t change over the years, except when I turned fifteen, Father Liam appeared, and every Sunday I sat in that house felt like I was signing a one-way ticket to hell.

Years later, at twenty-three, I had just returned from college a week prior, and I sat in the third pew from the front, my thighs pressed tightly together under my modest sundress, while I tried to look like I was listening to the sermon. I wasn’t.

How could I when Father Liam stood at the pulpit in his crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbows, and the black clerical collar framing the strong column of his throat. The man looked like sin dressed adorned by heaven. But that wasn’t all, he wore glasses, and I was a sucker for nerds.

I had wanted Father Liam for five years, like desperately so. That was five years of sitting in this same pew, watching him baptise babies, comfort widows, quote scripture with that raging fire in his eyes which made my pussy so wet that I wanted to baptise him in it.

This Sunday he preached about temptation, he loved that, and he always glanced at me at least twice during that sermon. “James 1:14,” he said, his voice reaching every corner. I always wondered if his hands could reach everywhere else too. “But each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed.”

I swallowed, shifting in the pew. My panties were already damp, my clit pulsing every time I crossed and uncrossed my legs. I was aching from just the sound of his words.

He went on, preaching more on how never to give in to temptation, but I was drowning in it, all I saw was him. He closed the bible, his eyes meeting me as he motioned for me to rise. “Come here, child.” He said.

I rose.

The congregation faded as I walked down the aisle in slow motion, heels clicking softly on the polished wood. Father Liam stepped down from the pulpit and met me at the altar rail. His hand gently cupped my jaw.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, Grace,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over my lower lip. “I noticed you, noticed how well you pretend to listen...you’re playing a dangerous game.”

I looked up at him, blinking. “Play with me.”

That was all it took, he lifted me onto the altar, right there onto the white cloth, where the bread and wine sat every communion.

My dress rode up my thighs and he stepped between my thighs, spreading them wider with his hips. His hand slipped under his dress and his fingers found the edge of my panties and he tugged them aside.

“So wet for me already,” he whispered against my ear. “So ready to sin.”

I nodded, my head falling back in bliss of my dream coming true. Father Liam’s pants were down, his cock found my pussy with ease and he thrust in, stretching me open in one thrust that made my back arch off the altar. I screamed, my voice bouncing off the walls, and he covered my mouth with his palm, muffling the sound.

“Quiet, sweetheart,” he growled. “The congregation is watching.”

But there was no congregation.

It was just us. Just him fucking me on the altar, hard and fast. Every thrust drove the air out of my lungs, making my breasts bounce under the thin cotton shirt I wore in hopes of teasing him.

“Take it,” he groaned. “Take every inch. Let me fill you right here where we pray.”

I was close, my pussy clenched around him, my nails digging into his shoulders while he leaned over, his breath warm against my ear. “Come for me,” he ordered. “Come on your priest’s cock while the whole church watches you fall apart.”

My orgasm hit like lightning, my body seized, walls fluttering as I came apart on his cock like always. “Sister Grace?” he called. “Sister Grace?” He repeated, this time louder, much more audible.

I blinked, my eyes snapping open to the world around me now. I could feel all eyes on me, and Father Liam stood at the pulpit, Bible still open, looking straight at me. “Are you with us?” He asked, concern flickering across his perfect face. “You appear distressed.”

Oh fuck.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment and I swallowed. My lips parted, but nothing came out. I could still feel him inside me—well the fantasy of him, and even with nearly everyone watching me, all I could think of was how badly I wanted for that fantasy to come alive.