Tricksta

Don't Stop

That following Sunday, my whore virgin mother Mary forced me to go to church, she said I needed to let out my sins, not my cum. I thanked God as she swanned off to find her shitty bake off friends. Paul was the worst, a masterBAKER he said he was... This led me to wander into the confession booth.I slumped deep into the old leather chair cushion, then proceeded to confess about my naughty night with my honey monster,but to my surprise, I was more than familiar with the priest's green orbs staring right back at me. I immediately stopped talking to make intense eye contact with him through the peephole in the wall.It was him, It was my Harry honey monster,that meant I had just retold the events of the intimate night with honey monster Harry back to the honey monster himself...with raised eyebrows he growled "you usually call me Daddy, Mia, but tonight you'll call me father," making only his plump succulent lips visible.
I could feel my minge moisten and it felt amazing, I hadn't been wet since he fucked me on Tuesday and I feel better than a heroin addict relapsing. He knew I would be here and he knew what I wanted.
I suck hard and obviously I don't neglect the balls, I fondle and fiddle using all of my three limbs. I whip myself around at the speed of light and our genitals fit together like a key and a lock. He thrusts into me with a force of 100 killer whales and I can tell he's been practicing on a jar of peanut butter or maybe a bowl of jelly. It's less than two minutes before I feel myself ready to explode, he penetrated me deeper than ever before. We climax simultaneously and our fluids mix together like a sweet painting hung in the Kate Modern. I can't help but scream out with pleasure even thought I know the consequences of getting caught.
We both slump down in the pews and breathe heavily. I reach up to him and we hold hands to breathe and bask in the sweet sexual air.