Prayer From Pulp Fiction Novels & Stories

Wilson was doing the same, and Mark tried to imagine the man standing there staring down at the other three, the expression of confusion that must be on his face…but that wasn’t what Mark was supposed to be doing. Just like the rituals of the Eucharist, there was theatre in all of this, but it mustn’t be empty dramatics. Mark couldn’t pretend to pray just for effect—he had to actually do it. So he cleared his mind, found the words, and ran over them in his mind. One repetition and he was calmer. His pulse was slowing and he could feel the heat draining from his face. A second run-through to bring him back into himself and find his center. A third and then a fourth repetition to strengthen hi

She keeps on repeating those words as if to assure me that she is really okay now. “Mom, I missed you so much… Don’t you ever leave me again like this.” My cries die down a little and by now only sobs remain. I don’t know if I will ever see that demon ever again in my life. I don’t care if he has advantage in this deal. All I know is that he did what I have been begging God to do. Ironically instead of a God in a church, my prayers were heard at a cross-road by a demon. Not what I was expecting and certainly it isn’t something which happens in daily life.

“Do you know the Act of Contrition?” “Yes Father…” I gulped. “Good. Now start.” I swallowed hard and started reciting, voice shaky. “O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee…” His hand moved sleekly; firm, twisting strokes that had me rocking into his fist in seconds. Every time my voice wavered, he slowed down until I was whimpering between the words. The guilt of praying for forgiveness while a priest jerked me off in the church made my balls draw up tight.

"Oh God, please forgive me!" ***

“Fill this sinful cunt while you pray for forgiveness.” “Do it, please, come in me, Father, ” He slammed deep, one last thrust, buried to the root, and came. Hot, thick pulses flooding her, spilling out around his shaft as he ground in slow circles. She shattered again, walls fluttering, milking him dry, screaming his name like a prayer gone wrong. They stayed locked together, panting, sweat-slick, his forehead pressed to hers. He kissed her, slow now, almost tender. Pulled out carefully. Come trickled down her thighs, dripping onto the marble.

Good, but might be bad once the Romanovs discover I’m in their territory. If I had called, they wouldn't have let me. I needed to ease this weight from my chest. So fuck it, I’ll be careful. “Holy Mary, Mother of God. Pray for us sinners. Now and at the hour of our death,” The father says, voice dry as dust. He crosses himself, and everyone chants: “Amen.”

' My words muffled, sloppy as saliva dripped down my chin. Two thrusts, deeper now, his cock hitting the back of my throat, making me gag softly but not pull away. 'Pray for us sinners...' I choked out between strokes, eyes watering, the rosary dangling from my free hand. Three thrusts, and he held me there, buried to the hilt, my nose pressed against his groin. 'Now and at the hour of our death. Amen.' The word escaped in a garbled moan, my throat working around him as he finally pulled back, strings of spit connecting us.

Sensi and Gio were both in trouble on their own because of her, and who knew whether or not they were still alive? As tears of exasperation began to flow from her eyes onto her cheeks, she remembered Gio's promise to save her and held onto that for strength even though it seemed highly unlikely. Then, surprisingly, the Lord's Prayer began to bang in her head, and she began to say it: “Our Father…" Who art in heaven… Hallowed be thy name…” More tears flowed down her cheeks at this point because she knew she was in dire need of help from somewhere, anywhere. “Thy Kingdom come… Thy will be done on earth, as it is in Heaven… Give us this day our daily bread… And forgive us our trespasses, as we

i passed by him and grab the prayer mat from the side table and placed it and started reciting my prayer that i missed from last night. i totally forgot about him and focus on my prayer . when my prayer finished i raise my hand for prayer . i heared a click when i opened my eyes xavier was sitting right infront of me on the floor having his phone in his hand . he took my picture . i didn,t said anything i was getting up from prayer mat when he held my hand . "why you pray to him after what happened to you ?" i was shocked wih his question . "because allah is my creater and i need allah everytime no matter what happens "

Nothing came. The silence stretched, thick and terrible. The congregation shifted again, unease rippling outward. Malachor’s presence pressed closer still, his attention a weight she could barely bear. Tears pricked her eyes, not from shame but from the overwhelming need surging through her. Her faith cracked under the onslaught, the ritual words blurring into nonsense as her core pulsed, on the edge of release. She pressed her forehead to the stone, whispering hoarsely, "Forgive me... please..." The plea hung ambiguous, directed at the altar but meant for the shadow devouring her from within. The licking intensified, tongue fucking her hole now, stretching her with ethereal thrusts while su