Priest Erotica Novels & Stories

a lay minister leading the congregation in a long prayer of thanksgiving. Below, two priests nursed from a nun's breasts like infants, drinking her milk while pretending to pray. Veronica's free hand slid between her own legs, and she rubbed her clit frantically while being suckled. The risk of discovery, the blasphemy, the sheer wrongness of it pushed her rapidly toward orgasm. She came as the prayer ended, her body shaking, her milk flowing even faster into the eager mouths of the two priests. They drank through her orgasm, swallowing every drop, their hands squeezing her breasts to extract the last of her milk.

Before I could catch my breath, his mouth was on me—hot, insistent tongue lapping at my dripping folds, sucking my swollen clit with shocking skill for a man sworn to celibacy. “Oh fuck… Father!” I moaned loudly, my hands gripping his dark hair as my hips bucked against his face. The confessional booth creaked under our movements, the lattice screen rattling. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me with long, deep strokes while his nose rubbed my clit. I was soaking his stubble, my juices coating his chin, I could hear the sound in the small space. He groaned against me, the vibration sending sparks through my core. “You taste like sin itself,” he growled, pulling back enough to slide two t

He told millions of his readers that men would visit the temple and the priestesses would help them to encounter God through physical contact and bla bla bla. That all sounded stupid when I read it, so so stupid and absurd, but I had cause to doubt myself after what happened between Nuel and I right there in the chapel, in the presence of God. Everything was slow, delicate, sophisticated. He broke the kiss and slowly shut the door open, separating us from the outside world that was raging in an angry war: the storm was getting stronger. He slowly undressed me, and I let him, trailing his fingers around my body; on my arms, my nipples, my navel, my eyes, my lips, everywhere, his hand grazed e

The angry priest groaned at her stubbornness and stamped the dagger on her left thigh and held both her hands backwards with his right hand and the left he used to to block her mouth. Amidst the heat of her emotion and pain. He whispered to her in a calmer voice "no risk no reward." She began to cry then. Bitter anger and frustrating sobs that set her whole body a shake. Soon he lifted her off the floor and pressed her against the desk. He began the sinful act. He kept on thrusting violently. The priest was determined to make used of the whole night. He had mad sex with Dale, trying to cover up all the years of confinement in the holy world.

Chapter 3: Sacrilegious Surrender The weight of our escalating sins pressed upon me like the stone walls of the convent, unyielding and cold. Each dawn brought the tolling bells, calling us to prayer, but my devotions had twisted into something profane. From the pulpit, I spoke of redemption, yet my gaze lingered on Elena during mass, her form shrouded in black but her posture betraying the subtle shifts—thighs pressing together, cheeks heating under the veil. She was unraveling, her faith fracturing under the onslaught of desire, and I reveled in it. The priest in me recoiled, whispering of damnation, but the man—the dominant force she'd awakened—yearned to push further, to bind her not jus

"Thy will be done, ram that holy cock deeper, Father, His body tensed behind me, breaths ragged, one hand sliding up to grab my tit under the robe, pinching my nipple hard. Pain shot through me, mixing with pleasure, making my legs shake, sweat beaded on my forehead despite the water, my muscles tensing with each thrust, he was losing it, his hips slamming faster, the water churning but the prayers drowning any noise. The buildup had been torture, teasing him, feeling him harden, resisting, now, releasing it felt explosive. Fucking the priest in the baptistry, congregation praying around us. Their eyes closed, but if one opens... the risk makes it hotter, I need his cum inside me, baptizing

“And so hot. Feel how your pussy is sucking me in? Like it knows exactly who it belongs to now.” He added a second finger, scissoring them gently, opening me up. The wet, obscene sounds of my slickness filled the small booth. My juices coated his hand, dripping down his wrist. I was panting, thighs trembling. “Father… please…” “Please what?” He curled his fingers, stroking that perfect spot inside me. My knees buckled. “Use your words, Sienna. Tell your priest what this sinful little cunt needs.”

The sun had already set, and with very little light, there wasn't much to see. Then the ceiling-to-ground glass door slid open, and one foot stepped out, then another followed. A figure swayed in the dark, her hips captivating the priest's eyes with every turn. Between the High Priest's legs, a growing bulge presented itself. It ached as her hands traced down his chest to the desire that wanted to be released. “I thought we agreed to help the Queen in the open, then sabotage it all behind their back,” a soft voice trailed. Priest Soren swallowed hard. His eyes flickered with lust, and he pulled the figure closer, smashing his lips against hers like a hungry beast.

Father Leonard did not just look at my lips like he wanted to bite and savor it. Before I can chicken out, I start to talk. The sinful thoughts and cravings I’ve been having. How every man has started to appeal to me. How I can’t help but imagine the dick size of almost every man I see and how it would feel inside of me. How all the time I’m aching and needing to be brutally and mercilessly fucked even though I’m happily married with two beautiful children. As I continued to talk, I felt my pussy grow wetter. Talking to the priests has made me so horny and wet that I pray crazily in my heart that they do not smell it on me. Do people perceive it when someone is aroused?