When the Dark Wins

The whine that squeezed out of her throat rose at the end like a question. Her pussy flexed and gaped at nothing, a suckling mouth chasing after a withdrawn nipple.

The priest was untangling their limbs, Straddling her hips. Clambering up past her belly and ribs. Her pulse sped as his knees pressed into the mat on either side of her neck.

Oh, god.

His eyes were downcast, intent from much further above, but the looming foreground was all sticky manhood.

The scent of him—of her!—overwhelmed as he aimed the fat crown at her mouth. Buckeye opened, delirious, and let him push the flare past her top teeth. Let him scrub it over her palate. She closed on him, the taste of her own body twanging her salivary glands even as she let the girth flatten her tongue.

Black trousers a few inches from her face were a backdrop for invading and retreating cock. Again, he braced on a palm. Found an angle that fit the bulk of him to the entrance of her throat. Began fucking.

He went at a careful pace this time, as though if he didn’t take pains to go slow, to savor every texture and flutter, he’d lose control and drown her right there.

There was nothing for it. His thighs might have been trapping Buckeye’s shoulders, but her hands were sure as hell free. The right one wandered between her legs, fingers slipping through arousal. She found her clit swollen, sensitive, and she worried it under her touch, the little bud slip-sliding back and forth, while a Covvie priest used her mouth like it was the only chance he would ever get.

Her fingers danced, speeding along with Brother Raymond’s hips, no thought for who might see her spread and pink on the vinyl mat. She sputtered here and there on his cock, his thrusts more careless now and breaching the back of her throat.

Out of the corner of her eye, the hem of a white cassock flowed near. The presence broke the illusion of a world consisting only of her and Brother Raymond. Other people were here. Mather was here.

Her hand stayed at work. So did the priest in black.

The head of the church took a knee, hiking white fabric as he went. Buckeye’s cheeks hollowed and filled, lips stretching around a moving organ while her eyes rolled up to meet the second pair looking down.

“Obedience is service,” he said. “Does it not satisfy to obey Brother Raymond? To serve the Church in this way?”

Her pussy surged. Fingers scrubbed harder at her clit.

Oh please, no.

Cool fingertips brushed her forehead. Mather

was moving damp hair back from her sweat-beaded brow, his hand inches away from pumping cock. She gurgled profanity around the meat, unintelligible, and closed her eyes.

“His penance will come later,” Mather said, “but for now, he will teach you. He will sin upon your body and you will accept it.”

Buckeye groaned and crammed three fingers into her pouting hole. The heel of her palm slapped her clit in a furious rhythm.

His voice went on like a litany. “You will accept him and any other man of the cloth who must purge himself of transgression.”

Raymond panted overhead, balls plumping against her chin as he thrust. Mather spoke as if nothing were happening.

“You will accept them on your knees. You will accept them on your back. You will open yourself in any way they ask, Sinner, because you are a servant now.” Cock rooted to fill her mouth, and her eyes bugged, skull rocking back and forth to make room for air. “You will complete your service to Brother Raymond and thank him for his blessing.”

She rode her own hand, eyes rolling wild, as the Covvie priest groaned and crammed more of himself than ever into her mouth.

“This is your opportunity, Brother.” Mather switched his attention to Raymond. “Tell her what shameful things you want. Let her show you obedience.” The dick on her tongue flexed at this, and the younger priest hissed.

“Tell her.”

Raymond’s free hand threaded fingers between the back of her head and the mat. He cradled her skull and drew in a breath as he fit his full length down into protesting, squirming tissue.

“T-take it,” he said. “Sssuck my cock.”

The words came timid at first, as though he’d never had a chance to say something like that aloud. Let alone have it describe the reality of the moment.

Buckeye choked, face flaming with effort. She met his eyes. They each seized the connection.

“Yes.” He was bold, jerking his hips so his cock reamed her face. “Take it.” She snorted and warbled, spit bubbling around girth.