Hello. Catherine here. Here's a little story about a church lady and her big, black Priest.

Gregory and I met Father Carlucci when he succeeded his predecessor, Father McMurphy, at St. Mary’s Catholic church. This story is about my first confession with Father Carlucci.

Father McMurphy was elevated to Bishop McMurphy and received a new post in Rome, Italy. The congregation was overjoyed to hear the news but sad to see him go. The diocese assigned Father Carlucci to take his place.

Father Carlucci was a fifty-five-year-old black man. At 6’-4” tall and 240 pounds, he was built like an NFL linebacker with pitch-black skin and a considerable appetite for white pussy. He was exactly twice as big as me.

To say I had an affinity for older black men would be an understatement. My attraction to muscular, jet-black men was overwhelming. Tall, dark, handsome men like Father Carlucci were my kryptonite.

My husband, Gregory, introduced us, and I offered my hand, remaining polite, respectful, and demure. My knees went weak in his presence, a reaction that did not go unnoticed by Gregory.

Gregory and I supported the church, which supported our traditional family lifestyle. Gregory was head of the household, and I was his submissive wife.

Gregory arranged with Father Carlucci to satisfy the church’s tithing requirements through our barter system.

The church sent us a receipt for a generous charitable donation quarterly. The resulting tax credit had a positive impact on our annual taxes.

In exchange, Father Carlucci was invited to our place on the first Sunday of each month. I would prepare a hearty, delicious meal for him in exchange for his generosity. His dessert is served between my legs.

As a good Catholic girl, Sunday is a day of worship, reflection, and confession. I confess to Father Carlucci once a month. After dinner, he and Gregory administer my penance together, and then it’s playtime for Father Carlucci.

Every Sunday is our Maintenance Spanking. Gregory and I find it a sensual and erotic way to reaffirm our love and reset for the coming week.

Confession Sundays are my favorite, with Father Carlucci’s visit the highlight of the day.

At 5 AM, I worshipped Gregory’s morning wood with my mouth, a tradition since our first day as husband and wife. I have happily swallowed his seed every morning since we were married years ago.

I finished his morning BJ and gave him a quick kiss. He snoozed a bit longer while I went into the bathroom to get ready.

Gregory has established a routine for my Sunday bathroom activities, so I do not dally. Nothing pisses him off more or gets me paddled faster than me “Fucking around in the bathroom all day.” as he so eloquently puts it.

We got up at 5:00, and I had until 7:00 to finish getting dressed.

I washed my long blonde hair with vanilla-scented shampoo, shaved my underarms and legs, and shaved my kitty bald too. I scrubbed my body with an exfoliating vanilla body wash and a Luffa brush.

I applied a vanilla moisturizing cream all over my alabaster skin to make it soft and supple.

Vanilla is an aphrodisiac and complements my natural scent. I hoped it would drive Father Carlucci wild.

My walk-in closet had everything I needed to dress quickly. I wore white stockings and lace underwear under a pretty knee-length, off-the-shoulder princess dress.

My red-soled white heels accentuated my shapely legs. My nails were painted red, and I wore cocksucker red lipstick to match.

My gold ankle bracelet was a wedding gift from Gregory. It featured two words written in cursive: "Slut Wife."

I finished before seven and presented myself to Gregory.

"Ready for inspection, sir," I said, twirling around so he could see my outfit.

“You are perfection, my dear,” he said, pulling me in for a kiss.

"Oh, thank you, darling," I said. His words thrilled me and inspired me always to be my best self for him.

He slapped my rear end, saying, “Into the kitchen with you; I’ll be out shortly.”

"Gregory!" I exclaimed with a big smile. Gregory's slap on the rear end is his seal of approval and my favorite compliment.

I donned my apron, turned on the TV, and started the coffee. I put a pot roast and veggies in the slow cooker for dinner. Once that was done, I got breakfast going: toast, eggs, and bacon, his favorite. I spread honey on his toast and set his place with a glass of OJ. I served his coffee black in a big mug with “#1 Master” on the side.

The Weather Channel forecasted a fabulous sunny day, perfect for taking the scenic route to church in the convertible.

Gregory came in for breakfast, looking exceptionally handsome. He wore a leather vest, pants, crisp white shirt, and tie. He knew full well that the scent of leather on my man drives me crazy.

I just stared as he took his seat at the table. I imagined my face pressed against the front of his leather pants in just a few hours, and I nearly swooned.

“Something smells good,” he said, kissing me as he sat down for breakfast and watched the news.

I served him coffee and OJ, then his toast, bacon, and eggs. I stood with my back to the sink, leaning on the counter. I had an energy bar and OJ while watching TV with Gregory.

The sun shone in through the windows, brightly illuminating the entire house.

“It’s a pretty morning, sir.”

“It’s a beautiful day to take the Chevy.”

“How’s your breakfast, hun?”

“It’s perfect, dear. Delicious.”

“I have a pot roast in the slow cooker and some pies to bake after church. Peach and cherry.”

We finished our breakfast, and I cleaned up. Gregory went out to pull the Chevy out of the garage and park it out front. Over the years, we restored the red and white ’57 Chevy Belaire convertible ourselves.

Gregory was a perfectionist during the restoration. He did the dirty work of taking her apart and putting her together again.

I helped out with research and locating parts. Over the years, we went to hundreds of junkyards, swap meets, and flea markets, finding everything from the hood ornament to the bumper jack. She was our baby.

I did many parts runs myself, getting good deals on rare parts. I dressed in cutoffs, a crop top, and work boots and brought my toolbox in case I had to pull the parts myself.

More often than not, I could get parts at a discount using my bartering skills. My hungry mouth and tight ass worked their magic, making free parts appear out of nowhere and saving me from crawling through snake infested junkyards.   

Baby looked pretty sitting out front. She’d look prettier once I got in.   

Today was confession day at St. Mary’s. I had been a naughty girl over the past month, tempted by the sins of the flesh, and I had to confess my sins to Father Carlucci.

Gregory and I had a game we played. He created sex scenes for me to perform, and like a good wife, I acted out the scenes for him.

I engaged in sinful acts at nightclubs, sporting events, or public places. Afterward, he spanked me for being a slut.

Gregory occasionally pimped me out like a whore as a plaything for his clients. He made me tell him all the details when I returned home, then spanked me for being a whore.

Other times, I sinned at home with Gregory present. I was his sexy server at poker games, a cheerleader at football games, or his ring girl for the fights.

He made bets with the other guys, wagering me instead of cash. I complained out loud when he lost a bet, but I secretly loved being his slut wife.

We always ended the evenings with Gregory spanking me for my sins.

When he finished a spanking, I was rewarded with my favorite treat, a mouthful of cock and a big load of creamy cum. Each time he emptied his balls down my throat, I finished with a shuddering orgasm.

I did anything Gregory wanted. Sinning for him excited me. I loved being his fallen angel.

Confession Day started after breakfast with Gregory's inquisition. It was the perfect opportunity to push his buttons.

“Catherine, have you sinned since your last confession?”

“No, sir.”

“Tell me your sins, Catherine.”

“I’ve been a good girl, Gregory.”

Gregory laughed, “That’s bullshit, Catherine. I know for a fact you have been a slut and a whore this month. Now you’re a liar, too.”

“Well, it’s not my fault, Gregory. The devil tempted me with the pleasures of the flesh.”

“You’re a sinful, lying little tramp, Catherine, a licentious, adulterous slut and a wanton whore.”

Oh, God, it turns me on when he talks like that.

“You sucked multiple cocks, fucked several men, and sold your pussy to a man and a woman. How much cum did you swallow this month, you little slut?”

I looked at him with a devilish grin. “All of it, sir.”

“You Catholic girls do stuff that would make the devil blush, don’t you?”

“We Catholic girls give the devil a hard-on, sir,” I said.

“What a filthy mouth, Catherine. Father Carlucci will have his work cut out for him today. He’ll hear your confession, and we will address your penance together.”

He stood and walked over to me. Grasping my chin, he tipped my face to look into my eyes.

"You're wet right now, aren't you, Catherine?"

My nostrils filled with the scent of my man in leather. I looked up at him, and a shiver ran down my spine. His touch excited me, and I felt my bra tighten as my breasts rose.

“Yes, Gregory.”

We left early for St. Mary’s. On pretty days, Gregory enjoyed driving his ’57 Chevy Belaire convertible to church. He took a scenic tour through the park by the lake, then a ride downtown, finally making his way to St. Mary’s.

He drove slowly with the top down to show off his most prized possession, me.

I smiled and looked pretty, hiking my dress up so he could see my stocking tops and garters. The breeze up my skirt dried my wet panties.

He parked next to all the other car guys. It looked like the church was holding a car show with all the old muscle cars and hot rods parked together. We knew everyone there and had attended car shows with many of them over the years.

Everyone was dressed in their Sunday best. The men looked handsome in their suits and ties; the ladies were a vision of beauty in their dresses and hats. The men talked about their cars, and the ladies talked about the men. It was still early, but it was starting to get hot. I was ready to go inside.

Gregory and I entered the church and dipped our fingers in the font to cross ourselves with Holy Water. A few people were saying the rosary, but there was no line at the confessional.

Gregory and I genuflected before sitting in our usual pew. I left my purse in the pew with Gregory and walked to Father Carlucci’s confessional. I opened the door to the tiny room and sat down.

Father sat on a tiny bench on his side of the confessional's dividing wall.

I sat on the other side of the wall, the screen prevented us from making contact but allowed us to speak to each other.

A dim light illuminated the tiny space, illuminating the screen but offering only a dark outline of the other person. Father Carlucci was barely visible on the other side.

He was a tall, handsome black man, a few years older than me.

The scent of vanilla identified me.

“Welcome, my dear. May the Lord be with you.”

I laid my face against the screen. I wanted the dim light to illuminate my alabaster skin and bright red lips so he could watch me speak.  

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” I said quietly. It has been thirty days since my last confession.”

“Confess your sins, my dear.” I could hear him shifting in his seat. He was tall and no doubt uncomfortable in the small confessional.

“Well, they’re kind of embarrassing to tell, sir. I’ll be so humiliated.”

“My dear, you must confess your sins to the Lord; there is no other way.”

“OK, Father. Here goes, I lied the last time I was here when I said my act of contrition.”

“My dear, it is a sin to lie to the Lord.”

“OK, well, I have a few other sins.”

“My dear, how many sins do you have?”

“I don’t know, sir. I lost count.”

“Good Lord, woman, please continue.”

It was always humiliating to hear myself confess my sins out loud.

“Well, Father, one night, I went out clubbing alone. I danced with two young men, and they couldn’t keep their hands off me. Their hands were all over my boobs, and they reached under my dress to finger my pussy.  

They took me into the men’s room, and I sat on the commode and blew them. They unloaded gobs of cum all over my face and in my mouth. I liked it, sir.

The cum was dried on when I went home to Gregory. He spanked me hard for being a bad girl. Do you think I was a bad girl, Father?”

“There are no bad girls, my dear, just bad deeds.”

“I told hubby the devil made me do it, but he said I was a slut. Do you think I’m a slut, Father Carlucci?”

I loved nothing more than pushing Gregory’s buttons. Now, I wanted to push Father Carlucci’s buttons, too.

“Slut is such a harsh word. Let’s just say you were a sinner.”

“Well, I have more sins to tell you, Father.”

“Good Lord, child, there are more?”

“Oh, yes, Father. I wouldn’t waste God’s time with just one or two sins. I like to save them up like a sin bundle.”

“Go ahead, my dear.”

I made a show of running my pink tongue around my red lips before continuing.  

“Gregory set up an online escort service. He pimped me out like a whore to a couple who wanted to spice up their sex life. They put a collar and leash on me and made me bark like a dog. His wife took my leash and made me crawl over to suck his dick, then she fucked my ass with a strap-on dildo. They made me sit up and beg, then pissed all over me. When I got home, I was covered in cum and piss. Gregory spanked me hard for being a filthy whore.”  

“I loved being their whore, Father. I love being paid to fuck.”

Father Carlucci was moving around in the cramped confessional. I knew he was getting worked up. I knew the sight of my red lips whispering naughty things was making his thick cock hard.

“You are a sinful, filthy whore, my dear.”

“Yes, sir.” I blew him a kiss and giggled before continuing with another confession.

“On poker night, Gregory and four of his buddies played cards, and I served them wearing my Hooters uniform. They paid me to get on the table and masturbate for them. I pulled off my top and played with my tits, then pulled off my shorts and played with my pussy. I laid back on the table and made myself cum. They all gathered around and jacked off, squirting cum all over me. I was glazed like a donut, sir. They watched Gregory spank me for being a slut.”

Father Carlucci groaned. I knew what he was doing over there. I heard him moving around during my whispered confessions. I recognized the sound of a man masturbating. I imagined his hand stroking his long, thick, black meat stick, thinking of me.

I was soaking wet, my fingers edging me as I confessed.

I whispered naughty things to the priest to see what he would do.

“Can you see my pouty red lips, Father? The tip of my pink tongue touching the screen? Go ahead, Father. Touch them.”

The dim light shone faintly in the dark confessional. My cheek and lips were up against the screen, my lips in contact with the screen itself. They were slightly open so I could push my tongue out and touch it. He could see the tip of my pink tongue licking it. He couldn’t directly touch me, but I wanted to know if he would try.

“I can smell your manhood, sir. You want to touch my lips, don't you, sir? Go ahead, touch them, Father. Touch them."

Father Carlucci stood and pushed the head of his thick black penis against the screen. I tickled the tip of his cock with the tip of my wriggling tongue and tasted his pre-cum.

He suddenly unloaded a big blast of cum directly onto the screen. His huge cum blast was caught by the screen, but enough squirted through to coat my mouth and tongue. His priestly cum was like warm milk, and I licked it off the screen like a hungry kitty.

It was sinfully delicious, and I swallowed every drop. I pulled my handkerchief out of my sleeve, wiped my mouth, and put it away.

“Ooo, Father Carlucci.”

“Young lady, have you more to confess?”

“No, sir. Father, I am deeply sorry for this and all my sins.”

“Young lady, your penance will be administered this afternoon and executed before this day ends. Once your penance is paid, you will be absolved of your sins.”

“God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you, and I detest all my sins because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell, but most of all because they offend you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love. With the help of your grace, I firmly resolve to confess my sins, do penance, and amend my life. Amen.”

I crossed myself and left the confessional. My panties were soaked. Father Carlucci remained in the confessional for a few minutes while people began to arrive. He exited wearing his robe and walked to the front of the church. I walked back to our pew and sat next to Gregory.

I sat close to him with my hand on his lap and whispered what happened in the confessional.

“I teased him through the screen. His cum blasted right through the screen and all over my face. I can’t wait to feel him in my mouth, sir.”

I kissed Gregory’s ear and sat up straight. It was time for Mass to begin.

Father Carlucci conducted a beautiful Roman Catholic mass. His sermon warned the congregation against the sins of the flesh. I saw him again during communion. I kneeled and looked up into his eyes, my tongue out, to receive the holy eucharist.

“The body of Christ,” said Father Carlucci.

“Thanks be to God,” I said, and he laid the host upon my tongue.

He offered the chalice, and I held it in both hands to sip the wine. I stood and returned to the pew to kneel and say an “Our Father.” Mass ended shortly after.

Everyone adjourned to St. Mary’s coffee shop. Operated by the nuns, it was very popular and provided a vital revenue stream to fund church operations.

We begged off, saying we had company this afternoon. Gregory took us straight home. I had a spanking coming.

When we got home, Gregory told me to meet him in the den in twenty minutes. He walked into the den and shut the door behind him. Twenty minutes was enough time to check the pot roast and put the pies in the oven. I went into the bathroom and quickly returned.

Twenty minutes later, I knocked on the door to his den and waited. Ten minutes later, I heard him quietly say, “Enter.”

Every Sunday after church, Gregory gives me a Maintenance Spanking. It doesn’t matter if Father is coming later or if I was spanked this morning; I get a Maintenance Spanking every Sunday, no matter what.

Each week, we discussed my failures and achievements over the past week. We discussed how my achievements balanced out my failures. If there was an offset, the delta determined the intensity of my Sunday Maintenance Spanking.

"Catherine, do you wish to tell me anything regarding your performance this week?" he asked. It was a trick question.

"Yes, sir. I have maintained your home, finances, and wife to the best of my ability. Life with you is my dream come true. I submit to you completely to use as you see fit. This afternoon, I'll be your fantasy girl."

"Very well, Catherine. Let’s begin."

Gregory sat in a large, heavy wooden chair. I stood before him as he reached up under my dress and pulled my panties down to my knees. A man pulling my panties down is so intensely erotic to me. I start trembling, and my knees weaken every time he does it.  

He put me across his knees, lifted my dress, and spanked me with his bare hands. His big hands punishing me in such an intimate manner was painful but necessary for him to help me maintain a positive attitude.

As I thanked him for every whack, my sobs released negative energy from inside me and got it out of my system.  

I thought our weekly sessions were sort of romantic. They showed that he cared for me.

After these sessions, I felt rejuvenated and alive. Gregory ensured I got my favorite treat, and I swallowed the first load of the afternoon.

“Thank you, Gregory.”

“You may go now, Catherine. Father Carlucci will be here soon.”

“Yes, sir.”

I answered the knock at the door and welcomed Father Carlucci. I showed him to the den, where he and Gregory would discuss my penance.

Father Carlucci became my second Master. After confession, I couldn’t wait to pay my penance. His tall, imposing figure and authoritarian manner intimidated me but also turned me on.

His big hands ensured my rear end would pay a painful penance, but the thought of what he and Gregory would do to me afterward made me melt.

When the table was set, I knocked on the den door to announce dinner. I brought the food to the dining room table and fixed the men’s plates. As we ate, they discussed the Mass and church business. I cleared their plates and served them hot cherry pie a la mode for dessert.

I was pleasant and polite, and I minded my place. I let the men speak uninterrupted, spoke only when spoken to, and kept my responses brief. 

Afterward, they returned to the den to share fine bourbon while I cleared the table and finished in the kitchen.

I went into the bedroom to change out of my Sunday dress into a Catholic school uniform, the same one I wore at St. Mary’s University years ago.

The uniform consisted of a dark blue pleated skirt and vest worn over a long-sleeved white blouse with a necktie, a white bra, and white cotton panties. Dark blue ankle socks and black Mary Janes completed the ensemble.

I placed a dab of vanilla on the back of my neck and another between my legs. 

I touched up my bright red lipstick, planning to leave a bright red ring around the base of Father Carlucci’s cock.

I brushed my hair and put it in a ponytail.  

I looked in the mirror and saw a slutty Catholic girl who looked good enough to fuck. Mmmmm. Thank you Lord for creating big, black cock.

I knocked on the door to the den and patiently waited for Gregory. I waited for twenty-seven minutes for his summons.

“Enter, Catherine,” he said. I entered the room, shut the door behind me, and stood in front of  Gregory’s big desk to learn my penance.

Gregory sat in his big chair behind the desk. I stood before him with my hands behind my back. Father Carlucci, wearing black pants and a Collarino, stood behind me.

My head was down, but my eyes were looking at Gregory.

“Catherine, the Lord is not pleased with your sinful behavior. You will submit to Father Carlucci and carry out your penance. Is that understood?”

I felt Father Carlucci step up behind me. My nipples stiffened as I felt his presence so near. I heard him removing his belt from around his waist.

“Yes, sir.”

Father Carlucci put his big hands on my shoulders and ran them down my body, encircling my waist entirely. He groped me over my blouse, fondling a supple breast in each hand. He loosened my tie and opened my blouse, pushing the bra up over them, molesting my naked flesh.

I heard his inhale when his nostrils flared, detecting the scent of vanilla. I felt his hot breath and full lips kissing my neck as he tasted his favorite dessert, vanilla-flavored white girl.  

I tipped my head forward as his hands worked the kinks out of my muscles with a deep-tissue massage. He continued kneading my back muscles, working his way down until I felt his hands around my waist.

He walked me forward until I was pinned between him and the heavy walnut desk.

Gregory sat and watched his petite, white slut-wife being manhandled by the tall black priest. I was bent over the desk, looking at Gregory while my big, black bull ravished me from behind.

Father’s mouth was next to my ear when he said, “Your penance will be to say three Hail Marys, punctuated by my firm hand. Pull your panties down, Catherine.”

“Yes, Father,” I said as I reached under my short skirt to slide my white cotton panties down over my butt and drop them to my feet.

He put his massive hand on my back and pushed me into position, face down on Gregory’s desk, my cheeks peeking at him from just below the hemline of my short skirt.”

His deep voice in my ear and the thought of this big black man spanking me sent a chill down my spine, and I could feel myself blush.

Father Carlucci stood to my left and said, “You may begin, Catherine.”

I recited the first Hail Mary,

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…”

Father’s wide black leather belt landed squarely across the sweet spot of my cheeks with a loud slap. I felt the painful sting immediately.

Father Carlucci admonished me, “You should be ashamed of yourself for being such a slut, Catherine,”

“Blessed art thou among women…”

Father’s belt landed harder, this time on my left cheek, with another loud slap.

Father continued, “Lord knows you Catholic girls are the sluttiest of all,”

“…and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. Jesus…”

Father’s belt landed another punishing blow across both cheeks. The belt slapped loudly every time it landed on my moist skin.

“The idea of you selling yourself to two perverts like a cheap whore pains me,”

“Holy Mary, mother of God…”

Another hard strike, more pain, and that loud slap.

“Then you come into my house, the Lord’s house, and commit your blasphemous acts of adultery.”

“Pray for us sinners now…”

Father’s blows were coming harder now.

“Catherine, you foul whore, your licentious act of depravity will not go unpunished,”

“…and at the hour of our death.”

Another whack with the thick leather belt, more brutal than the last.

“Your throat will be punished as well as your ass when you swallow my sword and choke on my cum.”

He was strapping my ass with the passion of Christ, more punishing than ever before. I wanted to push his buttons, and now I was paying for it.

“Amen,” I cried, finishing the first Hail Mary and starting the next.   

Father Carducci continued strapping my burning cheeks with the belt through two more Hail Marys. My face was red with the humiliation of being spanked like a bratty schoolgirl, and my eyes were wet with tears.

His blows were hard and loud, the pain building with each one. The heat flowed from my red-hot ass cheeks, permeating my core and stoking the fire down below. I was dripping wet.

I held Gregory’s gaze through my penance. I wanted him to watch me take Father’s spankings like a good wife. Each blow increased my desire to please him.

The penance became foreplay as I gushed. My bottom was soaked with girl juice that flowed like a waterfall down my inner thighs to my knees.

My breath hitched as Father Carlucci finished. I felt his big hand rubbing my burning cheeks. My face lay in a puddle of tears on Gregory’s desk. He smiled at me as he rubbed the bulge in his leather pants.

I felt Father Carlucci’s hand between my legs, his long fingers exploring my slick pussy, smearing my juices into my ass, violating me with two long fingers.

“Oh, God, he’s fucking me, Gregory.”

“Take it, slut. If you want your whore hole filled with cum today, you must earn it. Don’t even think about an orgasm without my permission. Open your mouth, whore.” 

Gregory stood and opened his pants, pulling out his long thick cock and rubbing it all over my face. He teased me by giving my mouth a few little fucks and pulling out to jack off inches just inches out of reach.

His raw, manly scent, combined with the smell of leather, was intoxicating. He jacked off just out of reach of my mouth.

“Ooooo…Gregory, he’s fucking my ass,”

Father Carlucci opened his pants, dropping them to the floor. He rubbed his cock along my drenched slit, lubing up his massive cock and pressing it against my back door.

“Oh, Father! Ooooo, Father! Yes! Do It! Fuck me there!”

The cock I had tasted just hours before began burrowing into my tight ass. Using my juices as lube, Father worked it in and out of me. I relaxed, opening enough for him to sink his cock deep inside me.

“Fuck me, Father! Fuck me! Fuck my white ass, you big black stud!” I said as I pushed back against him.

Father Carlucci thwarted my attempts to crawl closer to reach Gregory’s thick tool. He watched me stretch over the desk in a desperate attempt to crawl closer to Gregory’s cock. Each time I opened my mouth for Gregory’s a taste, Father pulled me away with a laugh.

“Look at your desperate whore, Gregory. Even while paying her penance, she endeavors to sin.”

“Now you see the extent of my dilemma, Father. Your assistance in this matter has been most helpful. I believe our sessions will be necessary for the foreseeable future.”

“Oh Gregory, Father, please fuck my cunt, please,” I begged.

My pleas were met with laughter, “Catherine, you have a long way to go before you’ll be allowed the pleasure of a cock in your whore hole.”

Gregory filled my mouth with his hard cock for another taste. He pulled out, and jacked off, unloading his balls all over my face. I moaned during the hot cum facial and humped back against Father Carlucci, still pounding my ass deep and hard with his big black cock.

I pulled my left knee up on the desk so he could fuck me even deeper. Father Carlucci held my hips and groaned as I felt him go deeper than any cock ever had.

I thought I had his cum, I didn’t think he could resist finishing inside me, but they were far from done.

Father pulled out of me like Gregory had, jacking off, he emptied his balls all over my red, stinging ass.

They glazed me like a donut at both ends simultaneously, leaving me on the desk in a cum glazed heap.

Gregory wiped his cock on my face and sat in his big leather chair. The men caught their breath and watched me quivering on the desk.

Father Carlucci wiped his cock on my ass and sat in the big chair behind me.

My hungry pussy was starving for attention, and Gregory knew it.

Father Carlucci said, “Catherine, you have paid your penance. You have been absolved of your sins.”

I lay there on the desk, my face lying in a puddle of drool and cum, catching my breath. Cum coated my face, back, ass, and pussy. My breath hitched, and I giggled at the same time.

“Thank you, Father. You and Gregory give good penance.”

I smiled at him as I swirled my fingers in my pussy and put them in my mouth, sucking my juices off them. I climbed up onto the desk and kneeled with my knees spread wide.

I loosened the Windsor knot I had tied on my necktie, pulled it off my vest, and tossed them aside, followed by my blouse. I shed my bra and threw it to Father Carlucci.

“What do you think of these beauties, Father Carlucci? They’re pretty nice, don’t you think?”

I cupped them and lifted them, showing him how hefty they were. I kneaded them and pushed them closer to my mouth. I looked him in the eyes again as I gave each one a wet, sucking kiss.

Gregory stood and reached in his desk drawer, pulling out an eight-inch long suction cup dildo and stuck it on the center of his desk.

“Show us how bad you want it, Catherine.”

I crawled on all fours toward the faux phallus wearing only my skirt, knee socks, and shoes. I centered my hips over the obscene toy and lowered my bare naked pussy until the tip was touching my drooling hole.

I teased the men by moving up and down but allowed only the tip to enter me, girl juice running down it to pool on the desk. I continued humping allowing more and more into my eager snatch.

Soon I was kneeling on top of the desk grinding on the toy, all eight inches lodged deep inside me.  

I rode the dildo like a cowgirl, my pelvis humping up and down the shaft, one hand rubbing small circles on my love button. I was getting close to cumming.

“I’m going to cum, sir. I’m going to cum,” I said, hoping they wouldn’t stop me, “May I cum, sir? Please?”

I was trying to behave myself but I was soo close.

“I’m going to cum, sir,” I said as my breath hitched and my abdominal muscles started clenching the toy. There was no way I could stop now.

“I’m cumming, sir! Aww! Oh! Mmmmm. Gregory, I’m cumming. Cumming. Oh fuck!” I drove it in to the hilt, trembling and convulsing uncontrollably.

My orgasm made me cum hard, squirting girl juice all over the dildo and Gregory’s desk. My entire bottom was soaked as I ground against the toy in a puddle of my making.

Gregory pulled me off the desk to stand before him. My skirt was still bunched around my waist as he kissed me deeply. He spun me around, and Father Carlucci was there.

They picked me up and impaled me on their massive tools for a heavenly double penetration. Oh, God! Father Carlucci’s schlong filled my cunt to the limit as Gregory plowed my back forty.  

Father Carlucci pounded my white cunt with a vengeance, filling me with another load of cum, and Gregory unloaded in my ass seconds later.

Oh, my fucking God, those two men were animals, fucking me repeatedly in all three holes. Gregory and Father Carlucci switched places so they could both sample my world-class mouth, tight pussy, and deep ass.

Eventually, I was their naked fuck toy, crawling from one man to the other, riding their massive dicks cowgirl style, and then emptying my pussy into their mouths as they took turns eating my cream pies.

Father Carlucci couldn’t get enough of my clean shaven white pussy. I rode his cock, and he held my throat with his big hand.

I whispered naughty things in his ear, stuff I didn’t want God to hear, and it drove him out of his mind. He filled my naked pussy with cum and licked it back out again.

We carried on for hours until we were too worn out to continue.

Now you know how a naughty Catholic schoolgirl stays on the good side of the Lord.

Remember, the next time you see a bunch of church ladies, one of them might be me.

END