All Chapters of FOR DADDY’S EYES ONLY!: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

“Perhaps you could show her kindness, then, instead of expecting competence. Patience is a gift you give to others, but it is a greater gift you give to yourself, for it brings peace.” He paused, and Hera could feel his presence, massive and quiet, filling the small space. “Are there any other… internal struggles?”Hera’s chest felt tight. This was the moment. The space for the real confession. She desperately wanted to say: Father, I have an internal struggle that consumes me. I love a man who is not mine. I picture his face when I pray. I hear his voice when I read Scripture. And I dream of him.Instead, she swallowed the truth, a bitter pill. “I… I have been neglecting my prayers, Father. My spiritual discipline is weak. I find my mind wandering when I should be focused on God.”She felt the lie settle over her like a heavy cloak. Her mind was wandering, but it was wandering to him, the man who represented God to her. Was that not a form of prayer? Or the highest blasphemy?Richard

They were just not done yet. Their desires were still at its peak.Their breaths mingled in the dim room, heavy and laced with the musk of their joining.Hera could make out Father Richards facial structure from the silhouette in the dark, she could see his full lips.Father Richard's dick softened slowly inside Hera's cum-filled pussy, but he made no move to pull out, savoring the way her inner walls fluttered around him, reluctant to release their prize. He lifted his head from her neck, his lips brushing hers in a deep, languid kiss—tongues sliding together slickly, tasting salt, sin and guilty pleasure.“Are you always like this?” He asked in-between ministrations.“Like how?” she managed to say.“Sweet… slutty and angelic at the same time” he muffled, biting into her soft flesh.But Hera did not reply, instead silence prevailed between them.Hera's hands roamed his back, fingers tracing the welts her nails had carved through the cassock. She arched beneath him, pressing her breas

Hera intensionally skipped mass last sunday.It had been days since her last confession, yet the quiet scent of old wood and Richard’s faint cologne still seemed to cling to her coat. She had tried, truly, to focus on the penance he had set. She sat in her small, bright kitchen on Thursday afternoon, a half-finished cup of tea cooling beside her, staring at a list that read: Three Good Qualities: Penelope, Library Colleague.…She couldn’t think of a third. Every time she tried, the memory of Father Richard’s voice—low, warm, saying her name—flooded her mind, erasing all thoughts of Penelope's organizational skills. “Wishing a person away is a lonely thing, isn’t it?”The guilt felt different now. She craved for another confession and when that friday presented itself, she took it!When she got to church, she quicky went into the confession booth.It was dim inside, she knelt in the dim confessional booth, the wooden kneeler biting into her knees through her thin black stockings. The a

Hera stumbled out of the confessional booth on shaky legs, her thighs slick with her own squirt drying in the cool church air. Her footsteps echoing as she slipped through a side door into the night, Father Richard's parting words burning in her ears: Meet me behind the altar tonight at eleven pm. Her pussy throbbed with aftershocks, panties ruined and clinging to her swollen vagina lips. She hurried home through shadowed streets, the anticipation twisting her guts like a knife. Tonight, her fantasies would become real—or so she prayed, her sinful mind already spinning new depravities.Her small apartment door clicked shut behind her, and she stripped feverishly, blouse buttons popping, skirt pooling at her feet. Naked, she padded to the bathroom, the mirror reflecting her flushed skin, heavy tits swaying, nipples still erect from confession.She turned on the shower, steam billowing as hot water hissed from the head. Prepare for him, she thought, stepping under the spray. Soap suds c

"Yes, Father! Fuck me raw—make me your bitch," Hera whispered fiercely, arching her back, presenting her holes. Sweet Jesus, his cock feels enormous slapping my skin. He's going to bulldog me into oblivion, and I crave every brutal inch.He gripped her hips bruisingly, cockhead nudging her pussy lips apart. No tease—he slammed in balls-deep in one savage thrust, like a bulldog mounting prey. Hera's eyes rolled back, a muffled cry escaping as her walls stretched taut around his girth. "Fuuuck, so tight," he grunted, pulling back only to ram again, hips crashing into her ass with meaty slaps."Ohhh, Father! Your cock's splitting me—feels so good," she gasped, voice hushed but ecstatic. He's pounding like a beast, owning my pussy completely. Every slam shakes my soul—pure bliss. The table creaked under them, dust puffing up as he fucked her hard, relentless, his balls smacking her clit with each plunge."Take it, seductress. This priest cock's exorcising your demons," he panted, one hand