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Todos os capítulos de Unholy Fantasies: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

160 Capítulos

Story I: Moans Before Amen.

Chapter one: The First ConfessionCiara's PoV: "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." I uttered, voice barely above a whisper and not so sure what of myself.My cravings had been unhinged lately, as an aspiring nun, someone who wanted to devote her life to worship. I had told myself at first that it was nothing, that all females experience this, including nuns. But everything shattered when I skipped going for practice, joining the church for charity or even responding to my boss email on time in the morning, and devoted my mornings to fingering myself until I came over and over again.One thing that made it worse, after everything was over, I felt like the worst, like I wasn't the person I was a few minutes ago. I felt guilty, I felt so miserable, after the desire was gone and now I had to come back to reality.Even as I sat on this confession chair, the thought of seeing Father Chris excited me more than what I was here to do. Deep down I knew, heavens knew I came here not to c

Story 1: Moans Before Amen pt 2

Chapter Two: The Book of Repentance.Ciara's PoV:The lock clicked behind me and the sound went straight through my body like a second heartbeat. I stood there in the sacristy, breath caught, staring at Father Chris. The room wasn’t dark anymore. He had lit four tall candles on the side table, their flames dancing across the stone walls and throwing warm gold light over the heavy wooden table in the center. A big leather-bound book lay open on it, thick pages glowing in the candlelight.The air smelled of melting wax and the faint trace of the incense that always clung to his cassock.“Ciara,” he said again, softer this time, but there was an edge under the gentleness. “You came.”I nodded, throat too tight for words. My hands were shaking at my sides. What the hell was I doing here? This was the man who had given me my first communion when I was a kid. The man who was supposed to guide me toward the convent. And now I was locked in a room with him after midnight because I’d told h

Story 1: Amen Before moans pt 3

Chapter Three: The Water That Lied.Clara's Pov:The moment I stepped out of the sacristy and heard the lock click behind me, the cold Boston night slapped me awake. My legs still shook as I walked the six blocks home. The North End was quiet now—just the occasional car and the distant clatter of the T—but inside my head it was screaming. Father Chris’s hands. The way his thumb had brushed my nipple through my dress. The way he’d stopped just short of everything I needed. The book. The words I’d read out loud while my body betrayed me.By the time I climbed the narrow stairs to my tiny apartment above the bakery, it was almost two in the morning. I locked my door, kicked off my shoes, and stood in the middle of my living room like I didn’t know what to do with myself. The ache was still there—worse, actually—throbbing between my legs like a second heartbeat. My panties were ruined.I tried to sleep. God, I tried. I peeled off the black dress, left it in a heap on the floor, and cr

Story 1: Moans Before Amen pt 4

Ciara's PoV:I didn’t sleep. Not really. Every time I drifted off, the glow of my phone pulled me back—the two messages glowing in the dark like accusations from God Himself. I kept reading them over and over until the letters blurred. By the time the sky outside my window turned gray with Boston dawn, I was exhausted, aching, and already wet again just from remembering the weight of Father Chris’s hand on my breast.The day dragged on like punishment. At the law firm I stared at spreadsheets until the numbers swam. My boss asked twice if I was okay. I lied both times. All I could think about was midnight. The sacristy. The book. The way Father Chris had known exactly what I’d done in the bathtub the second it happened. How? Had he guessed? Or was there something worse—something holy and terrifying—that let him see straight into my soul?I told myself I wasn’t going back. I even laid out my rosary on the kitchen counter and tried to pray. The words tasted like ash. By eleven-thirt

Story 1: Moans before Amen pt 5

Ciara's PoV:The next morning my phone rang while I was still half-asleep, eyes gritty from the night before. Sister Margaret’s cheerful voice filled my ear before I could even say hello.“Ciara, good morning! Quick news—Father Andrew arrives today. He’s going to be assisting Father Chris permanently. We’re having a small welcome gathering tonight after evening Mass. Everyone’s invited. Make sure you come!”I sat up so fast the room spun. “Father… Andrew?”“Yes! Fresh from seminary in Chicago. Young, energetic, exactly what St. Agnes needs. See you at seven!”She hung up before I could answer. I stared at the phone like it had betrayed me. A new priest. Right here. Right now. When Father Chris and I had only just started… whatever this was.It should have been good news. Another shepherd for the flock. More help with youth groups, more confessions, more everything the parish had been praying for. But all I felt was a cold knot in my stomach. No more midnight sacristy. No more locked

Story 1: Moans Before Amen pt 6

Ciara's PoV:Father Andrew’s eyes dragged over me like he was already remembering every inch of skin he used to own. That slow, crooked smile I knew too well curved his lips. “Come inside, Ciara,” he said, voice smooth as sin. “You look… very familiar.”I stepped fully into the sacristy even though my legs felt like they might give out. My gaze flicked between him and Father Chris, who was quietly lighting fresh candles along the side table, the flame catching on his strong jaw like nothing in the world was wrong. The air was already thick with wax and incense and the sudden, suffocating weight of two men who had both ruined me in completely different ways.I forced an awkward smile, the kind that made my cheeks ache. “Must be from college,” I said, trying to sound light and casual while my heart slammed against my ribs. “We went to the same one. Small world, huh?”The match in Father Chris’s fingers paused mid-air. He turned slowly, first locking eyes with me—searching, intense—t

Story 1: Moans Before Amen pt 7

Ciara's PoV:Father Andrew knocked again — harder this time, three sharp raps that echoed through the sacristy like gunshots.My whole body jolted. Father Chris froze above me, his massive cock still pressed right against my dripping entrance, the thick head nudging my folds open, so close to sliding inside and finally splitting me apart. My legs were spread wide on the sofa, skirt bunched at my waist, blouse hanging open, tits heaving with every desperate breath.For one terrifying second I thought he was going to ignore the knock and thrust into me anyway.Instead he cursed under his breath, pulled back, and tucked that huge, throbbing cock back into his trousers with visible effort. The thick bulge strained against the fabric as he zipped up. “Fix yourself,” he whispered harshly, eyes still dark with frustration.My hands shook as I yanked my blouse closed and fumbled with the buttons. My pussy was throbbing so hard it hurt, swollen, soaked, clenching around nothing. I could f

Story 1: Moans Before Amen pt 8

Father Andrew POVThe door clicked shut behind Ciara, and the sacristy went dead silent except for the soft crackle of the candles. Her scent still hung in the air — that sweet, desperate smell of a woman who’d been edged right to the brink and then denied. My cock twitched hard just from the memory of her flushed cheeks and the way her blouse had been half-unbuttoned when I walked in.I tried to keep my face neutral, but inside I was burning. I had controlled my feelings earlier, fighting the edge to question them and making up an excuse in order to convince them both, but somehow I felt the only person who actually believed was just Ciara.Father Chris turned to me slowly. His eyes were calm on the surface, but I knew that look. That was the look he used to give me in seminary at 2 a.m. right before he’d shove me face-down and remind me who I belonged to.“Why did you come?” he asked, voice low and measured. “The baptismal font paperwork could have waited until morning. You inter

Story 1: Moans Before Amen pt 9

Father Andrew POV:Father Chris’s eyes never left mine. That calm, terrifying smile stayed on his face while he waited for my answer.“Choose carefully, Andrew,” he said again, voice soft but heavy with command. “Jealousy… or lies?”I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. My tongue felt thick, useless. My cock was so hard it strained painfully against my trousers, leaking just from the way he was looking at me. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t lie. Couldn’t admit it.The silence stretched.Then he moved.He stepped in close, one hand sliding down my chest like he owned every inch of me. His palm pressed flat over my racing heart for a second before it continued lower… lower… until his fingers cupped my balls through the fabric and squeezed.A broken sound escaped my throat.His lips brushed my neck, hot and deliberate, right over the spot he knew made me weak. “Cat got that sharp tongue of yours, Andrew?” he murmured against my skin, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You were so talkative a

Story 1: Moans Before Amen pt 10

Ciara's PoV:I dressed like a sinner who didn’t care anymore.Black lace lingerie underneath a simple white sundress that clung to my curves and stopped high on my thighs. No bra. No panties. My nipples were already tight just from the walk to St. Agnes. The cool Boston evening air kissed my bare pussy with every step, reminding me how empty I still felt after last night’s cruel interruption.Damn that bastard Andrew. Of all the moments in the world, he chose the exact second Father Chris was finally about to push that thick cock inside me. I’d spent the entire day soaked and aching, replaying the almost-fuck on the sofa. Tonight I was going to moan Father Chris’s name until my throat was raw. I was going to beg him to ruin me on that same sofa, on the table, against the wall — wherever he wanted. I needed it. I craved it like air.I slipped through the side door of the rectory without hesitation, heart racing with filthy anticipation.The sacristy door was already cracked open. Ca

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