Fr. Joe


To say Fr. Joe is no stud is an understatement. Fr. Joe
is in his early 60s, thinning hair, bifocals, slim build, about five foot six
and weighing in at about 165. He looks like the quietest, most conservative
man on the face of the earth. Soft spoken and looking like a bookkeeper, Fr.
Joe would seem to be the LAST man on earth to fuel any guy's sexual fantasies
or desires, but, as I found out long ago, Fr . Joe may LOOK quiet, but as far
as sex goes, he turns into a raging, horny sex machine!!
For instance, every week I go to the rectory and we retire to his
dark-panelled study with its stained glass windows. He sits in his
red-upholstered chair and asks to hear my confession. As I confess my
wrongdoings, I can see a bulge behind the fly of Fr. Joe's black clerical
trousers. When I have finished, his beady eyes glare at me, and tells me I
must be punished for my sins.
He turns on the cd player, and Gregorian chants fill
the room with erotic, ancient overtones. Fr. Joe goes to his desk and from
the drawer he takes out a wooden paddle. He orders me to pull down my suit
pants and my boxers. My fat nine-inch cock swings out, and Fr. Joe reaches
over and hauls me across his lap. He begins to chant in Latin, and he starts
smacking my round, smooth little corporate ass with the paddle. I yelp and
groan, moaning "Bless Me Father, for I have sinned" after each hard, stinging
blow. My hard cock grinds against Fr. Joe's skinny thigh, and a steady stream
of lube dribbles out of my huge dick, staining his black trousers.
Then Fr. Joe tosses aside the paddle and starts spanking my
sore, quivering ass with his bare hand. His small, but strong hand stings
like hell as he assaults my upturned, captive ass.
Tears
start coursing down my lean face as his hand continues spanking my smarting
white-collar ass. I grind my cock harder against his skinny leg. Suddenly, my
overloaded balls explode, and as Fr. Joe continues to spank my blazing ass, I
hump his lap madly, my huge dong spewing out hot, thick gobs of Catholic cum
all over Fr. Joe's black trousers. When Fr. Joe is convinced I have been
purged of evil, he allows me to get up, and then I have to kneel before him,
and clean the thicky, sticky jizz from his stained trousers. Fr. Joe always
enjoys this a great deal, as do I. Now I stand up, and Fr.
Joe and I hug one another tightly, our hot tongues dueling it out in each
others' hot mouths. My hand rubs the solid bulge behind the fly of Fr. Joe's
clerical trousers, as he rubs and squeezes my sore asscheeks.
Now, Fr. Joe unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly, and his black
pants fall to the floor. He pulls down his white briefs and then bends over
his desk. Fr. Joe's ass is far, far removed from bubblebutt status; only the
slightest curve keeps it from bieng totally flat. But those smooth, tight
globes already have my big dong rising once again.

Now Fr. Joe knows that he too is a sinner, is in not exempt
from just punishment. I pick up the plain wooden cross from its desktop
holder and brush aside Fr. Joe's black shirttails. My one arm encircling his
narrow waist to hold him firmly in place, I start paddling Fr. Joe's pale
little rump with the wooden cross. His small buns quiver and bounce with each
stinging blow of the wooden cross. He mutters in Latin, in between his pleas
for forgiveness, as I continue to thrash his small priestly ass, the
Gregorian chants on the cd making me even hornier.
Soon, Fr. Joe's small ass is criss-crossed with
cross-shaped welts, those smooth globes of priest-ass now a fiery, angry red.
I can see his stubby, angry-looking dick up against the desk edge, drooling
lube onto his shirt front as well as his desk. I put down the cross, and tell
Fr. Joe that I am about to instill the "nectar of forgiveness" into him. I
hear him moan............he knows what to expect.
I drop to my knees and let my slick tongue bathe the hot welts
that crisscross Fr. Joe's well-punished ass. Then I pull his tender, small
gobes apart and my hot tongue slithers through the black hair, searching out
his clean-tasting pucker. Fr. Joe grinds his little ass into my face as I rim
him good, and when I get the bespectecled little priest's butthole good and
slick, I stand up, and start to ease my aching nine-inch member into his
tight, slick hole.
Fr. Joe moans loudly as more and more of my thick boner
slides into his tight little ass. And when my bloated nuts are against the
priest's flaming buns, I grab his narrow waist, and start to plow in and out.
Fr. Joe mumbles again in Latin as I really start to plow his tight, sweaty
hole. My balls smack Fr. Joe's blistered little buns with each forward
stroke. Each time my huge Catholic cock pounds the little priest's thrumming
prostate, his stubby cock leaks more lube.
I then reach around and wrap my fist around
Fr. Joe's throbbing cock, and I start to pump furiously as I continue to fuck
his tight little buns. All too soon, Fr. Joe reaches his climax. Exclaiming
in Latin, his throbbing cock begins spewing wad after wad of cum, splattering
my hand, the desktop, and his shirtfront. His spasming asshole causes my own
nuts to erupt, and I fuck him like a madman, my huge cock spraying hot,
sticky jets of Catholic cum into the depths of Fr. Joe's blistered little
ass. His clutching hole milks every last drop of jizz from my aching nuts. As
I collapse onto Fr. Joe's narrow sweaty back, I kiss him, nibble his ear,
lick his neck. I slowly pull my soft cock out of his well-abused asshole. He
straightens up and turns around, and we again embrace and kiss, my fingers
teasing his sweaty, cum-drooling hole as our tongues slither in and out of
each other's mouths. "I love you, " Fr. Joe whispers. "And I love you,
Father, " I reply, meaning every word. THE END (to be continued...)
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Posted by john1195
10 months ago    Views: 174
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