A Lover’s Confession

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Churches and cathedrals did funny things to me. In the House of The Lord, I managed to find my urges bubbling quietly until it boiled out of control. I’m an atheist, a fledgling one. No such emotions to be felt when I was in a temple or a synagogue.

It would always be in a church. My ‘stab-in-the-dark’ suggested that it could be the beauty that was within the building despite of tits rotten core and history that brought out the animal in me.

When I looked around I saw solemn statues of the Virgin, she hadn’t had any action, let alone saw one in a millennia or more. Maybe that was why she looked so forlorn. Mary oversees the entire church with her grand stature. She was a marble white figure with her painted china face and her blue robe faded by the passage of time.

I wanted Mother Mary to forgive me because of he urges that the church stirred in me. Neither a brothel nor a strip club, a church. Then, there were these dark, grotesque paintings of the fourteen stations around the main section of the church. A thread of images depicting His journey from the bloodied ground, his crucifixion and his ascendancy to Heaven. Scenes of sorrow that ended in joy.

When I walked in the church I felt that its floors hand been burdened by the steps of sinners. When I smelled the frankincense in the air I inhaled the breaths of sinners. When I perk up my ears I heard the confessions of sinners. We were all born sinners and there was nothing we could do about it. I would rather sin than to be a frigid forlorn statue.

There was a memory that surfaced from all these years… there was a place in the church itself that I could sin like there were no tomorrow. Tell me lover, do you remember the confessionals? In the evenings we tend to sneak into one of the empty wooden rooms. Claustrophobia did güvenilir bahis not bother me the slightest when I was in one of the rooms with you.

Your dark hair and eyes pulled me into the darkness. A body strong and healthy due to being battered by the outdoors attracted me so. The virtues of wet, lingering French kisses. You often left me breathless; I could have died a million times. Tongues lingering in each other’s mouth. A moan or two barely escaping. Your taste in your mouth and lips I could not forget. The sweet scent and rich taste of black coffee, your favourite beverage.

Your wandering hands would fondle my tits as you kissed me, I was ready to die for the umpteenth time. Feeling my hillocks underneath my favorite strapless blue dress. I loved it when you fondle my tits as if they could break any minute. You accepted me as a woman and I was happy that they’ve given you hours of enjoyment.

You would pull my dress up so that you could see what was beneath. I was naked, my dark fuzz of hair blatantly announced “Honey, no panties today!”. I never wore panties in church.

When I closed my eyes I could feel your lips lingered around my nipples forever and then you sucked them with a force that almost knocked me down in the confessional. Sucking like a wet vacuum. The noises turned me on greatly I could feel a slither of wetness dropping onto the skin of my thighs.

I asked you to stop sucking my tits and I turned around to face the wall with my ass in full view to your eyes. It was an unspoken signal for you to spoon against me. I loved this one as it was tender and I could feel so close to you. The skin on my back could feel your chest, sparse of hair but hard with muscles.

Your fingers than cupped my tits and fondling my nipples until they become as stiff as bullets. türkçe bahis I could imagine you feeling the same between your legs and the constraints your jeans pressed upon your cock was killing you. Demanding release.

“Honey I’m so hard for you right now, I’m taking off my jeans so you’ll know how hard I am for you. How hard you’re making me now,” you whispered with a trace of lust. I already know. When you were aroused I could smell sex in the air. Even in the house of God.

My darling, hardness was an understatement. You were rock solid. You pressed your chest against my back and tugged a chunk of my dark hair like pulling a puppet’s strings. I was under your spell.

My nails scratched against the wooden wall as you pulled my hair towards you. You pulled your jeans down and surely enough your balls were dangling and rubbing against my inner thighs. Balls heavy with sperm, only for me.

“Honey, would you let me fuck you right now? I need to be inside you. I’m aching. Not seeing you for months are driving me mad, god please…” you were pleading and begging to be inside my velvet cunt, which now slick and hungry for cock.

“Yes, do it. I need your cock right now, in my cunt. Darling, I’ve waited forever just to see you, touch you and now feel you again. Fuck me, fuck me please, I’m begging you,” it was my voice but I was pretty sure I was possessed by my own lusty desires for the man I love.

My slick soft pussy was stretching to its limit as you have such a cock generous in girth. Thick like a breakfast sausage, deliciously placed in my pussy. A glorious cock just for me with its lovely juices ready to explode. As you were pushing slowly inside me I asked you to pull my hair. “Honey, pull my hair,” that was it. Pull my hair. You pulled my dark locks hard until my head faced güvenilir bahis siteleri the imaginary sky upwards. You pulled and pulled as you pushed harder inside me.

” Look what you made me do, you’re going to hell with me whether you like it or not,” your lusty whispered sent electric currents all over my body. You fucked me harder than ever before, hands gripping the flesh of my round ass. My body shook and I tried to keep my footing by gripping against the wall, it felt like a futile exercise. I could see scratch marks- the one I created using my nails to hold on to lest I fall.

I dread to think of the unfortunates who had to confess inside this very box we were fucking in. what would go through their heads I wonder when they saw the scratch marks on the wall?

I moved with you as you took me like a beast in the confessional. Thoughts running wild as drips of my juice came streaming down my legs. I could feel you very powerful against me, possessing my body.

Forces of nature reached its peak and I felt an earthquake on the ground, a tornado around my head and a volcano exploding hot, sweet come into the depths of my earthy liquid-rich tunnel. Our liquids blended to create something sacred that soothed the pain of loneliness and longing.

The liquid cooled the heat of my skin as it slithered down my pussy, my thighs and legs and lastly touched the carpeted floor of the confessional. This was ecstasy.

As we dressed we were still dancing inside from the thrill of expressing our love in a holy house. When we opened the door the church was empty and our steps echoed against the walls.

The frankincense still lingered, a certain stillness that came forth after the chaotic force of nature that stirred our bodies. I walked with my beloved hand in hand from the church knowing that we’ve been cleansed of our sins. We had promised to meet again in the church, if we’d ever sinned again, like we would naturally incline to do. We sinned. We could not help or change if we tried. This is what makes us human.

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