Priest Erotica Novels & Stories

He was gripping her hips, pulling her back into him to get as deep as possible. "Oh merciful God!" He cried out, fingers digging into her hips. She felt the penis squirting hot cum up her ass, filling her passage with its thick, sticky cream. After a minute the priest pulled out and she felt rivulets of sperm running out of her anus and down her thighs. She collapsed against the cross, sweaty and panting. "Now, my child," He said wearily from somewhere behind her. "I'm sure your father will enjoy that." ***

"Hera, these are grave sins. What else?" "Group sins, Father," she confessed breathlessly, her hand now boldly slipping under her skirt, fingers dipping into her panties to circle her swollen clit. "I picture you sharing me with the other priests. Father Michael and Father Paul hold my arms while you fuck my face. Then they take turns— one in my pussy, one in my ass, double penetrating me on the church floor. dicks stretching both holes, their shafts rubbing through my thin walls. I scream around your dick as they dp me raw, cum swapping between holes."

as her walls clenched around him, hot and wet and alive. Yeess… deeper, Father. "She moaned" arching her breast forward..... Pretend it’s your cock violating every vow you've ever made.” He pumped helplessly, thumb finding the hard pearl of her clit. She rode his hand shamelessly, skirts bunched at her waist, breasts heaving. Within a minute her thighs began to shake. “fuckk!! this is sweeter than my imaginations, I’m about to come on a priest’s fingers,” she panted. “right here, In God’s house. While you watch.”

The kind that could make any woman feel something sinful stir deep inside her. But the man speaking wasn’t a mafia boss. He was hot, tall—yes. But he was also a priest. A fucking hot priest. One I lusted for. Obsessed over. The one who made me touch myself at night, desperate and aching in ways I never thought I could. Enzo Romano. A walking sin wrapped in holiness. Long black hair he tied back into a ponytail, piercing gray eyes that looked right into your soul, and features so divine they made you believe God really did have favorites.

I sank all the way down until his thick cock filled me completely then started riding him hard with my hands on his shoulders for balance. My tits bounced in his face with every drop of my hips and he sucked on one leaking nipple hard while I moved. “Forgive me Father for I am sinning,” I whispered right against his ear, my voice shaky and broken with every bounce. “I am riding your priest cock like a whore in church my cunt is so full of you.” “Keep praying on my dick,” he groaned, gripping my ass and helping me slam down harder. “Say it louder while I breed this fertile pussy.”

He obliged, his thrusts becoming machine-like. My tits swung beneath me, and he reached his right hand around to tweak my nipples, making me moan like the slut he called me. My pussy continued to leak wetness, making the slide of his cock so smooth. The room was filled with the sounds of our bodies: his grunts, my sobs and moans, the relentless slap of flesh, the squelch of my soaked cunt. “You feel that, you little whore?” he spat, the last vestiges of his priestly facade crumbling. “You feel my holy cock rearranging your insides? You feel it claiming this cunt for God? Tell me you feel it!”

“Bones of saints. Fingers of martyrs. Tongues of virgins. Sealed in 1893 after a scandal the Church buried deeper than the dead. Now it’s mine.” He entered me slow, thick, and bare. No condom. No hesitation. Just heat, stretch, and fullness. I arched, cried out, and the rope biting my wrists, the velvet slick beneath me. He fucked me like a prayer—deep, deliberate, and each thrust a syllable of Latin I didn’t know but felt in my bones: “Dominus vobiscum… et cum spiritu tuo…” The cameras rolled. The candles burned lower, wax dripping onto the stone like tears of the damned.

The sounds of the church secretary bustling just outside the door make it feel forbidden and electric. He buries his face In my neck, teeth grazing my skin. I tangle my fingers in his hair, keeping him close, grinding harder as the need builds. My thighs tremble, his hands shake, and I know we’re both teetering on the edge. He pulls me tighter, whispering filthy confessions against my skin, things I never imagined a priest would say. It makes me wild, makes me want to shatter every rule just to hear what he’ll say next.

A low groan escaped his throat. He hadn’t come in over a decade. Not once since ordination. Tonight his balls felt heavy and full. His cock throbbed angrily in his fist. He wanted to pull it out and finish right there in the confessional, thinking about Sophia’s dripping cunt and filthy mouth. He let go at the last second, breathing hard, sweat on his forehead. This was wrong. Dangerously wrong. He was a priest. But as he sat there in the dark with his erection still raging, Father Elias wasn’t sure he could stop himself from wanting more.