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studioghibelli · 5 months

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the body of christ - a joel miller x reader

summary: running from a past life full of alcohol, drugs, and sex, joel miller sought repentance through the priesthood. all was going fine and dandy, until one fateful day, you found yourself in his church. (rated explicit, 18+, mdni!)

warning: priest!joel, religious trauma, age gap ( unspecified college age/50s), actually quite a bit of fluff scattered throughout, inaccurate catholic terminology, mentions of the bible and religion (obvs lmfao), so much fucking smut (semi-public sex, slight exhibitionism, blowjob, pussy eating, dirty talk, overstimulation, slight mention of crying, unprotected sex, creampie, daddy kink, soft sir kink, soft dom!joel, sub!reader, slight mention of male masturbation, kind of guided fem masturbation??)

note: if you are deeply religious, i’d turn the other cheek to this. if catholic/religious conversations or themes disturb or trigger you, do me a favor and don’t attempt to read this. (respectfully) thanks! xx (as always this is not spellchecked bc bad bitches HATE spell checking. i'll do it eventually!! love u bitchez)

Joel remembers the first time that you walked into his church.

Bright, innocent eyes, full of light and curiosity. They traced over each painting on the wall, each portrait, gazed upon every pew and carving etched deep into the wood, fingers grazing over in amazement.

He remembers the look that flashed across your face when his eyes met your own, the way your jaw went slack with attraction and lips parted in surprise. He watched your eyes darken, full of something that bordered dangerously close to arousal, something that shouldn't be felt in the church.

Joel would be lying if he said he hadn't felt it, too.

That tug. That magnetic pull. That incessant nagging by something deeply instinctual and primal that had since laid dormant within the cage of his ribs. Something he had not felt since his thirties, when he was still taste testing all the pleasures life had to offer. Psychedelics, parties, women, liquor.

When he looked into your eyes, he felt that unsettling feeling of attraction, the unbearably strong kind that wouldn't leave his head. Not when he was in the confessional booth, not when he was preaching the Holy Book during Mass, not when he was passing out communion or coaching on-the-brink of divorce couples about the sacrament of marriage. Never. Never, ever.

And ever since that Sunday, that haunting, looming, awful Sunday, you spent every church service diligently listening to him.

The truth be told, you had struggled with your faith for as long as you could remember. The idea of a Big Man in the sky who oversaw and overheard everything was, well, frankly quite terrifying to you.

When you were younger, you were scared God could see you undressing, scared he could hear you singing in the shower, scared he could see you exploring your body, scared he could see you lusting after boys throughout middle school.

God scared you. That's what they always preach, right? The fear of God? That it’s normal, healthy, wanted.

Oh, you certainly feared Him. The fear soon grew into shame. Shameful about each and every decision you made.

You felt shame for not settling down, insisting instead upon going to college. You felt shame for masturbating, for not only reading your favorite pieces of erotica, but for enjoying them. You felt shameful for questioning Him, for doubting Him, for letting your mind wander.

This shame lead you straight to your local priest's office.

Joel Miller.

The first time you caught his eye, you were unsure of why a man who looked like him would ever even think of becoming a priest. He was beautiful. Rugged, masculine, and charming, there was nothing about him not to love. His brown eyes were big and round, full of rich soiled Earth and swirls of wooden umber. His lips were plush and they looked soft to the touch, perfectly nestled behind a thick moustache and a thin beard with patches of gray that made your mind buzz with excitement.

Joel Miller was the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes on, and on your search for a shame free life, you realized he was only contributing to that terrible, looming feeling.

How could he not be?

The night you first met him, you went back to your dorm and masturbated until the God damned cows came home. You must have orgasmed at least six times before you finally began snoring, lulled to sleep by the thought of his touch, what his cum would taste like, what his spit would feel like dripping down the valley of your breasts.

Oh, you craved him. You yearned for him, Jane Austen style. He was always on your mind, the thought of him lingering like a scented candle, wafting through the halls of memory in your mind.

That's how you found yourself, yet again, in his private office, hoping to seek solace from the painful prison shackles he had unknowingly burdened you with.

"Father?" You asked softly, staring at him. A pair of glasses rested on the bridge of his nose as he flipped through a book about something or another.

"Yes, Angel?'

Angel. He had always called you that. Joel gave you the nickname the first time you ever spoke, and it had followed you around like a ghost.

Angel. Angel. Angel.

Oh, how sweet it was, to think that you were his only Angel, that you were his chosen saint. Like the Renaissance portraits of the Virgin Mary, you wore the halo of his affection with pride.

"Um. Have you ever struggled with... uh, thoughts?"

Joel looked up at you behind the brim of his book, his dark eyes sparkling with the playful hint of amusement. "Well, yes. I do. In fact, I think quite often." He snickered, the Southern twang of his voice softly tugging at his syllables.

You felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "N-No. I'm not talking about.... just any thoughts."

Father Miller hummed out, eyebrows furrowing together tightly as he set the leatherbound book down upon the mahogany desk. He stared at you, long, hard, as though he were searching the depths of his mind for what to say next.

"Care to elaborate any further?" Was all he asked. Your stomach clenched with nerves, and you were starting to wonder if you should have even brought it up.

You looked down at your lap, rolling the material of your skirt between your index and thumb. "Lust." You managed to croak out. "Do you struggle with it?"

"Honey, I'm a fuckin' man." The curse word made your neck snap up. You could already feel the familiar tinge of arousal searing its way through your belly, straight to your aching cunt. "Of course I feel lust. Is that what this is all about?"

You buried your face into your hands, groaning softly. "Father," you heard him hiss a soft breath of air between his lips, "I can't get away from it."

Joel reached his hand across the table, gently grabbing your wrist and pulling it away from your anxiety laden face. "Angel girl, look at me." His voice was hushed, gentle, uncharacteristically soft. "There ain't nothin' wrong with lust."

"But the Bible-"

"Fuck the Bible."

You couldn't help but widen your eyes at what he just said. Wasn't that sacrilegious? You gulped thickly, slowly nodding at his words.

"Do you know how many times the Bible has been translated?" He asked after a long moment of thick, palpable silence.

"How many?"

"The King James Bible alone has undergone 30,000 changes. It's been rewritten in so many different languages, surely loads of it has gotten lost in translation. It's just a fuckin' book. It's paper. Trees." His thumb gently swiped across your knuckles, and that's when you remembered he was holding your hand.

Father Miller was so warm. So, so, so warm. His rough palms scratched against your own in a way that made you shiver, and his fingers laced into yours perfectly.

His fingers.

You glanced down, examining his digits. They were thick and long, and you couldn't help but wonder how they would feel buried deep inside you, how they would taste dripping with the nectar of your arousal.

You swallowed again, garnering enough courage to look up and meet his steady gaze.

"If God is real, and I'm still not all too sure about that, I don't see how he'd let us have all these.... feelin's, if they weren't right."

"That makes sense." You murmured sincerely.

"I thought maybe turnin' to the cloth would help me discover somethin' about the world. But in truth, all its done is confuse me even more. Religion is such a God damned mind fuck, you know that?" Joel's eyes lit up at the sound of your giggles, and he couldn't help the feeling of excitement that erupted within his chest.

"I don't know if.... if I can get rid of all this shame." You finally admitted after a long moment of thinking. "That's what really upsets me. The shame. The-the guilt."

"Well, I can always help with that, Angel. Just say the word."

"Help me? How?"

Joel leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he inhaled a deep breath through a pair of flared nostrils. His eyes, dark and mysterious, swirling with something you had never seen within them, met your own. "Ever thought that maybe the reason you feel all that shame is because the sex you've been havin' ain't all that great? It's easy to lust, easy to get all horny lookin' at some stud on a magazine- but when you act upon it, well that's a whole 'nother issue. I bet you start worryin' about your eternal soul, whether you'll be sent straight to Hell. And I bet it's easy to feel guilty about all that shitty sex, it's easy to feel shame about wastin' a perfectly good chance of goin' to Heaven on some limp dicked little boy who don't know his hands from his feet. Am I right?"

You stared blankly, blinking rapidly and dumbfoundedly. How could he read you so well? Before you could speak, Joel started speaking again.

"But good sex? Well now... Darlin' that's an entirely different thing." The priest leaned forward, taking your hands inside of his own. Your faces were now inches apart, so close you could feel the heat of his breath fanning across your face.

You had never seen his features this close before. The faint creased lines of his forehead, the crows feet by his eyes- all of these little marks and scars, wrinkles and freckles, they made him even more handsome. Disgustingly handsome, actually, and it made you want to throw up.

Joel relished in the nerves which radiated off of you. He knew the affect he had on women, but he only cared about this so called affect he had on you. "I can make you doubt it all, Angel baby. I can fuck you so good, make you cum so hard, you'll start beggin' to go to Hell if it meant I'd be down there with you, pleasin' that little pussy of yours."

You felt dizzy, like you could genuinely pass out and fall off the chair at any moment.

How did you end up here?

Joel's index finger traced down your cheek until it reached your chin, where he grabbed it in his firm grip, guiding your gaze to meet his own. "Like I said. Just say the word, okay? My office is always open, my confessional booth is always waitin' for that pretty ass. You understand?"

"Y-Yes, father."

His eyes darkened once again, and you watched his adam’s apple bobble up and down as he swallowed. Joel stood, extending his hand as he walked you towards the door.

"Oh, and you have my number. I don't typically make house calls, but I'm more than happy to oblige you."

You were too flustered to speak, but you watched with precise eyes as he brought your small hand to his lips, pressing a searing kiss into the soft skin of your fingers.

"Have a good rest of your week, Angel."

That night, you came seven times to the thought of Joel Miller.

• • •

For two weeks you wondered if you should take him up on his offer. Univeristy work had flooded your life, making it rather difficult to do anything except go to classes, eat, and sleep. You hadn’t even had time to masturbate!

As the canvas of winter slowly started tearing, the lively chirps of Spring soon began bellowing through the air, replacing the gray clouds of February with the bright blue skies of March. That’s when you decided it was time to go and see Joel.

It was Tuesday. That meant he was working the Confessional.

Your legs were carrying you as your mind wandered with delicious thoughts of Father Miller, until you found yourself in front of the charcoal colored Cathedral, ornately designed and powerfully exuberant. You pushed open the thick wooden doors, etched with scenes of the Ascension and Crucifixion, before making your way to the Confession booth.

You slid quietly into the booth, the screen protecting your face from the person on the other side.

“Speak, my child. What do you wish to confess?” Father Miller asked in his most priestly, professional voice.

A sudden wave of confidence rushed over you. “Well, father, I’ve been a pretty bad girl.”

You heard him shifting in his seat, before a honeyed chuckle escaped from the back of his throat, gritty and intoxicating. “I was startin’ to think I scared you off, Angel.”

“Oh no, you never could. School just got in the way.” You explained softly, tracing shapes over the exposed skin of your thigh.

“What are you wearing?” He finally asked, and you began chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“A sage colored dress, a pretty strappy number. Stops in the middle of my thighs. You can see the lace of my bra, too.”

“Oh, how scandalous.” Joel snickered, feigning a sense of surprise. “I bet you look real pretty.”

“I can come over there if you want me to.”

“Oh yeah?” You could hear the smugness of his voice.

“Yeah.” You responded flirtatiously, words hot and thirsty.

“You stay over there for a few, get yourself ready for me.”

“What do you want me to do,” a breeze of bravery swirled over your chest, so you added: “Daddy?”

You heard the priest moan at the name. Through gritted teeth, he responded. “Spread those legs for me.” You did as Joel commanded, awaiting his next words. “Take off your panties and stuff them in your bra.” After a few beats, he spoke once again. “Have you done it?”

“Yes sir.” You responded cheekily, a giggle evident in your voice.

“Good girl. Touch your thighs, Angel. Brush your fingers over them, real light like.” As your nails swirled patterns into the sensitive skin on your legs, you shivered with delight.

“Now what?”

“Just keep doin’ that. Listen to my voice, darlin’. Just keep touchin’ those sexy thighs of yours.” Joel’s voice was like velvet to your ears, and you heard the zipper of his pants being pulled down.

Your breath hitched, pussy aching and sore.

“I know you’re gettin’ wet, know that little cunt is weepin’ for me.”

You moaned in response, wanting nothing more than to touch your swelling clit. “Y-yes.”

“Don’t worry, little Angel. Daddy’ll make that pussy feel real good. Do you want that?”

“P-please. Now. Please.” You were begging now, willing to do just about anything to feel his cock deep within your walls.

“Now, now.” Joel responded smugly, and you heard the movement of his arm, up and down and up and down, slowly pumping at the length of his hardened cock. You nearly wept at the thought. God, please, you just wanted to feel him. “Jacob served seven years just to see Rachel again. Surely that pussy can wait a few minutes, yeah?” You could hear the smugness dripping from his tongue, like venom on the fangs of a viper.

“Oh, shut up.” You grumbled.

“There there, now, pretty baby, don’t you worry. It will be well worth the teasin’ when I’m pumpin’ my cum in that little hole of yours.”

You hissed through your teeth in excitement, whimpering as your clit throbbed with the promise of his reward. “You promise?”

“Baby, ‘course I do. I’ve been waitin’ for a taste of your cum, you know. Since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Really?”

He chuckled at your naivety. “Oh yeah. Prettiest girl I ever laid eyes on, tha’s why I started callin’ you Angel, you know. Beauty like yours, well, that’s fuckin’ celestial.” You heard Joel grunt, no doubt from his fist wrapped around his length.

“Please.” You begged, thighs clenching together as you continued tracing lines in your skin. “Can I please move to your side?”

Joel thought for a moment, before he spoke. “Yes. Make it quick. Don’t want nobody seein’.”

You obeyed, adjusting the skirt of your dress before stepping out. The church was empty, except a few people praying before a statue of Jesus on the crucifix, backs turned to you. You slowly opened the door, finally face to face with him. You sucked in a breath of air as his appearance crashed over you, quickly shutting the door behind you.

His eyes met yours, hands dragging to your waist as he pulled you closer. Now you were standing before him. Joel leaned forward, placing his head to your chest, exposed by the low dip of your dress. You heard him inhale your perfume, before feeling his tongue flat between your breasts, licking a strip from there, to your neck, where he suckled gingerly on that sensitive spot right beneath your ear.

“God, been dreamin’ of this.” Joel whispered, kissing at your jawline softly, the scruff of his beard tickling against your skin.

“I have, too.” You admitted your secret as you grasped his shoulders, broad and muscular beneath your grip. Joel continued his assault on your neck, his lips trailing down to your collarbones, teeth gently digging into your skin, as his hands wandered down to your bare thighs, hiking your skirt up slowly. His fingers dug into the soft, supple skin beneath your ass, nails gently imprinting creases on your upper thighs.

Joel pulled away, slowly removing his hands. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he suddenly grabbed your chin, a smirk playing on his face.

“Kneel.” He commanded deeply, voice thick with seriousness.

You knelt before him, tilting your head up until you were faced to face with his throbbing cock, which he had ever so politely tucked back into his tightening boxers.

“You’ve been bad. You’ve sinned.” Joel explained, running his fingers through your hair. “It’s about time you seek repentance.”

You batted your eyelashes up at him, glossy lips parting. “And how should I go about doing that, Father?” Your feigned a sense of faux innocence with your words, doe eyes wide and sparkling for him.

“The Body of Christ, you see.” Joel hummed, moving your hand to his bulge. “To partake in the body and blood of christ, the Eucharist. To…. suck, and to swallow.” He smirked down at you, eyes glittering with mischief.

“Yes sir.” You purred, slowly pulling his underwear down, until his thick, angry cock popped out, gently slapping against his belly.

“Suck on it.” Joel ordered, hand pressing to the back of your head. You smiled, leaning forward.

The mushroom of his cock pressed against your lips, his salty precum mixing with your strawberry lipgloss. You opened your mouth, lips accommodating to the sheer width of his length as you took him gently into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip. You felt him shiver beneath your movements, fingers knotting tighter into your locks.

That’s when you heard the door on the other side creak open. You went to pull away, eyes wide with fear, but Joel firmly kept you in place, beckoning you to continue on with your so called repentance.

You clenched your thighs at the nature of what was going on, head popping, taking as much as you could without gagging. You didn’t want to risk making any noise.

“Hello, father.” A feminine voice on the other side of the wall spoke, and Joel clenched his jaw, gazing down at you.

He didn’t look up when he finally spoke. “Welcome, my child.” Joel’s voice was solid, unwavering, there was absolutely no hint to his tone that could possibly give away what was going on. “What is it you wish to confess?”

The woman sighed a deep huff, and you heard what seemed to be a piece of paper being unfolded. “A lot.” She admitted.

“That’s okay. God is always forgiving.”

“Amen, father.” She agreed.

Joel thumbed your cheek gently, watching your lips wrap around his cock, up and down your head went, finally growing used to the size.

His cock was perfect. Thick, veined, just the right length. It was the biggest you had ever seen in person, but then again, your previous references weren’t much to brag about. You swirled your tongue around his dick, slowly pulling away until you were faced to face with it.

Joel watched as you leaned forward, tracing the underside with the tip of your tongue. He shuddered again.

“-And then I called the cashier at Publix an idiot for ringing in my chocolate milk twice. Oh, I feel awful about that. Jerry and I- you know Jerry, don’t you? My husband? Well, he and I got into a fight. And I was taking it out on this poor teenage girl-” As the parishioner continued her rant, you realized neither of you were really paying attention.

The priest’s eyes had been blown full black at the sight of you servicing his dick, enamored with the way your soft tongue looked pressed into his skin, swirling and tracing and tasting. Your nails were digging into his thighs, straight through the cloth of his trousers, but Joel didn’t mind one bit. In fact, he liked the added bit of pain, it only added to his pleasure.

“And finally, I yelled at my kids teacher. All week he worked on this project, and she has the gaul to give him a B-! As if, he was-”

You worked his length back and forth, his tip hitting dangerously close to the back of your throat. You felt his cock tightening, straining with the promise of an oncoming orgasm. Keeping the same pace, you licked and sucked, head bobbing as his free hand came up to rest on your head.

Spurts of hot cum painted your throat as Joel began speaking to the confessor, as though on cue. “Salvation is co-oming, my child. God will forgive you, he always does.” He hid it rather well, teeth gritting as his head was thrown back, nails gently scratching into your scalp as you milked him with your mouth.

“What should I do, father? How should I repent?” She asked worriedly.

“Uh, a few Hail Mary’s or something.”

Joel wasn’t really paying attention to her. He was looking down at you as you suckled the rest of his cum from the top of his dick, hand gently patting at your head of hair. His gaze was gentle, full of some sort of admiration as he watched you clean his cock up, tongue obediently lapping up every drop of his sperm.

“Is that- is that all, father?”

“Yes.” Joel responded curtly.

“Peace be with you.” She said, before you heard the door open.

“And with you.” Joel mumbled, a love sick grin spreading across his face. He swiped a dribble of his cum off the corner of your mouth, holding it to your lips. You slowly leaned forward, licking it off his skin before pulling away with a beaming smile. “C’mere.” He whispered, patting his lap.

You straddled him, hands moving to his shoulders, before crawling up to his curls, gently running through them. You eyed the gray in his chocolate colored hair, smiling at the salt and pepper locks. God, he really was so handsome.

Joel gently kissed your knuckles, arms wrapping around your waist.

There was a knock at the door, and he stiffened.

“Father Miller, there’s to be a meeting between the bishops in five minutes. We would like you to oversee it.” A man spoke through the door, and you leaned forward into his neck to stifle a groan.

You were practically leaking onto his lap, pussy sobbing at the thought of his touch.

“Please,” you whispered in his ear, fingernail tracing down the line of stubble on his jaw. “Make me cum.”

Joel’s hands grasped ahold of your ass, and you had to try your hardest to stifle your yelp. “I’ll be there soon.” Joel snapped, and you heard the figure jogging away. He turned to you, rubbing his nose into your soft cheek. “Angel girl, I swear on my life I’ll make you cum until you cry tonight. I swear it.” You leaned into the touch of his nose, nodding slowly.

You knew he was a man of his word.

“Okay.” You murmured, albeit dejectedly. You were so turned on your could barely think straight.

Joel’s ears perked as he looked at you. “I have an idea….”

• • •

You don’t know how he talked you into it, but as you curled beneath the wide desk in his office with your legs spread and dress pulled up to your belly, you listened in on the meeting.

Joel had given you three strict rules:

1) Rub your clit for the duration of the meeting.

2) Do not, under any circumstance, stop.

3) Do NOT cum!

And so you stared up at him as the bishops talked about upcoming projects and fairs, discussing how to spend the month of March doing charity work and putting on a Spring Festival. Every so often he would glance down with a satisfied grin tugging at his lips, soaking in the picture of you rubbing at your clit.

It was the first time Joel had ever seen your pussy. Soaking, sloppy, and a drool worthy shade of pink. Your clit was swollen, begging for his tongue, and the perfect inner lips of your pussy were clenching around- unfortunately- nothing.

Your wetness was dripping down on to the floor of his office, coating your thighs with slick as you stared at him, noticing the strained bulge against his black pants. You smiled at the thought of you being the one to make him feel that way. He had cum in your mouth. He had given you his number. He had told you he could help.

You.

You, you, you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he cared for you. The thought made your face beam, a look that Joel did not miss, despite the conversation he was taking part in.

It felt as though he were purposefully dragging the meeting out. Asking questions, giving ideas, receiving a scripture here or there. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He was right, however. Good things do indeed come to those who wait.

As time dragged on, it was becoming harder and harder to stifle your moans. You wanted to make noise for Joel. You wanted to whimper and mewl and beg and cry out for him. It was always for him, wasn’t it? You knew, he knew. All the pretty dresses, fixed up hair, perfect makeup- it was for him. In fact, deep down, you knew you hadn't been to church for the man in the sky for quite some time.

"Alright, it was a pleasure meetin’ with you all. I look forward to putting on the Spring Festival, I'll be in touch soon with the event info." Father Miller spoke professionally, calmly, as though you weren't half naked beneath his desk, touching yourself in front of him.

The door shut and locked the moment everyone had filed out, and his feet shuffled slowly towards where you sat. When your eyes met Joel's, a smile threatened the side of his mouth.

"Up, Angel. Sit on the edge of the desk for me."

You crawled out slowly, thighs slightly cramping up, before grabbing the hand he had offered and pulling yourself to your feet. You eased your ass onto the table, scooting back before spreading your legs, a shy grin falling to your face as he kept his hand tightly threaded with yours.

"Oh, honey. Look at this poor pussy. She needs me real bad, don't she?" He purred out his words with a saddened pair of eyes, sitting on his chair as he wheeled it forward, face to face with your soaking cunt. "Should I taste you?" His words were meant to tease you further, finger tracing over your inflated, tingling clit. "Should I make you feel better for being so nice and patient with me?"

"Please, daddy. Please."

Joel hummed in approval at your answer, leaning forward to wrap his lips around your pinkening bud. Before he even began sucking, you had thrown your hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, all at the simple moment of contact. He worked your little button slowly, gently sucking as his free hand ran up and down your thigh, gently giving it a squeeze as he lapped and licked.

You tangled your fingers in his curls, watching as he worked your clit masterfully, the tip of his tongue pressing gently, setting that bundle of nerves on fire perfectly.

Joel moved his palm beneath his chin, fingertips exploring the entrance of your pussy before he pushed his middle finger in straight to the hilt, searching for your G-Spot and finding it victoriously after a few short moments. You whimpered out at the first point of contact, drawing his head in closer by his hair as your hips grinded mindlessly, your back falling onto the desk. You had accidentally knocked a few things over, but admittedly neither of you cared, both wrapped up in your ecstasy as the priest worked on making you cum for him.

Joel moved his hand away from yours, instead opting to wrap it around your body, holding you tight and close to him as he ate you out. You already felt your orgasm approaching, climax chugging up that rollercoaster hill of emotion, right at the top before he added a second finger, pumping and thrusting up, right where Joel knew you needed him the most.

You groaned as he pulled away, no more contact on your clit. His umber eyes dragged up the length of your body, meeting your own. They sparkled with adoration. In that moment you were his purpose, his salvation, his religion. He worshiped the idol that was your body relentlessly, boundlessly, and knew he was done for for all eternity. If he were to burn because he fell in love with your body, so be it. Joel Miller would happily burn to have a taste of you.

His kissed your thigh, still fingering your tight cunt, eyes still locked with yours.

"You're so beautiful." He murmured, leaning forward and licking your clit slowly, tongue flat against it. He continued doing this, his eyes never leaving yours. You hadn't dared to look away, whimpering and brushing your digits through his hair as he kept up the slow, steady, perfect pace of movements. "I'm done for, you know. I'll never stop wantin' a tase of you."

You giggled breathlessly, nodding with his head cradled in your palms. "It's all yours."

"That's all I needed to hear, pretty Angel." Joel mumbled, going back to sucking on your clit as his eyes fluttered close.

That did it. The tightening string broke, your climax flooding over you as you chanted his name, grinding and bucking, body spasming with orgasmic pleasure as he kept his mouth firm on your body, continuing to lick and suck until he had lapped up every last drop of cum from your pussy. He pulled away, the lower half of his face glistening, and helped you sit up gently, hands moving to your waist as he stood up.

His cock was straining against his pants, and you cheekily grabbed the loop of his belt, bringing you close to him until his clothed bulge was pressed flush to your sensitive cunt. You shivered at the contact, gently pressing your hands on his broad, sturdy chest.

“Fuck me. Please. I need to feel you inside of me.” You whispered into his ear, pressing a gentle kiss to his lobe.

Joel nodded in response, pulling away to look at you. He gently cupped your face in his calloused hands, leaning towards your slightly open mouth. The curve of his sturdy nose gently pressed into your own, lips brushing yours as your breath hitched, chests now taut with one another. He had just eaten you to the best orgasm of your life, and now your hands shook with nerves as he began kissing you, sweetly and meaningfully. It felt like home. They melded together like iron, as though your mouths were made for each other, crafted by the hands of some ethereal power with the knowledge that, one day, you two would find the other.

He drew you in closer, deepening the kiss as your fingers fumbled with the zipper of his pants, freeing his cock from his boxers as it sprung out, gently hitting your bare knee. You giggled softly into his mouth, finally pulling away to eye level.

Joel grabbed your hips, lining himself up with the entrance of your cunt. His thumbs gently brushed your waist soothingly, and he let you take his cock in your hand as you guided the tip up and down the folds of your pussy, soon pressing it against your entrance. With his eyes on yours, he slowly pushed in, all the way until your clit was pressed to his stomach. He reached down, gently rubbing it, allowing you to acclimate to the sheer size of him.

"This okay?" He asked, voice gruff and raw.

"Oh, yes. It's perfect." You breathed out, throwing your arms around his neck.

Joel began to fuck you slow and deep, each time pulling all the way to the tip of his dick, before pushing himself back inside, until your clit was back against his belly. Your moans were music to his ears, guiding him like a siren song towards the ocean of your body, waves of pleasure blanketing over him as he fucked you.

Admittedly, Joel had not had sex for many years. He had no problem picking up women before the priesthood, but when he left school to become the head of a local church, he knew he had to keep himself in line. People would talk, he would be kicked out, and there would be nowhere for him to go. Ah, but for you? Well, he was willing to risk it all. You were everything he had ever dreamed for, and he wasn't going to let the time of your chance meeting ruin that.

Kind, understanding, intelligent- you were perfect, and Joel knew the moment he saw you, he would fall deeply in love with you. He had been holding off for months now, knowing that if he ever had the chance to fuck you, he would be done for, completely and totally for you. Fuck God, he didn't care about God. You were the one he wanted to worship, you were the one he wanted to sing songs for, read to, sacrifice for. You. You, you, you. You were his Heaven.

The priest was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of his name falling from your mouth, and when your eyes met, he shot you the hint of a smile.

"Thatt'a girl." He mumbled, holding you tightly. "Tha's a good girl, taking me so well. So fuckin' beautiful."

You moaned at his words, stomach tightening with the threat of your second orgasm as he continued rubbing your clit.

His cock was pounding harder now, walls fluttering and clenching against the veiny length of his dick as he fucked you like a devil. Beads of sweat were gathering at his temples, the lines of his forehead creased as he focused on you. You saw his dark eyes full of something you hadn't seen before, and if you were a foolish woman, you would say it was love.

You reached up and gently wiped the sweat away with your fingers, head falling back as his mouth latched on to your neck, suckling and marking you with proof of his devotion. You shivered as he hit against a sweet spot right beneath your ear, teeth gently digging in as he kissed and licked.

"Gonna cum soon." You murmured, nails digging into his shoulders as he continued taking you, balls slapping against your ass as he pounded, continuing the same pattern of movements that made you weak for him.

"Give it to me, honey. Cum on this cock, cum for me. Let me know who's makin' you feel this way." Joel's words were hot against your ear, his breath fanning your skin as his fingers skillfully worked your clit.

Your orgasm finally broke, but Joel didn't waver. He continued rubbing your clit despite your whimpers, fucking you harder until the only sound was his heavy breath and the slapping of skin, your moans of ecstasy hidden as you buried your face into his shoulder.

"F-fuck it's too much. Feels too good." You cried out, body shaking. Joel didn't stop, he continued rubbing you, setting something aflame within your body, pushing you towards the brink of becoming deliciously over stimulated.

"'Member how I said I was goin' to fuck you until you cried?" Joel's voice was more of a beasts than a man, deep and throaty in your ear. "I'm a man of my word, darlin'. I ain't quittin' 'till you're crying for me. You understand?"

You whimpered in response, nodding your head as he continued hitting deep within you, the tip of his cock finding your G-spot, the soft spongy part of you that made you shiver and shake. You were coming undone again, his middle finger relentless on your swelling, throbbing bud, pleasure bordering on pain as the priest before you kept taking you.

You felt your throat tightening at the feeling of his throbbing cock, until your vision went blurry, mind fuzzing at the world around you. All of your emotion came crashing down, the feeling of him rubbing your pussy, the length of his cock buried deep within your cunt.

You couldn't take it anymore.

When your third orgasm hit you, you couldn't stifle your noise. You screamed for him, head thrown back as your body spasmed. And this time, Joel did as he said- he made you cry. He watched your pretty eyes well up with tears, watching as they cascaded down your cheeks. He groaned at the sight, a beautiful portrait of pure, raw, animalistic ecstasy. Your chest was sticky with sweat, hair pressed into your forehead, and perfect eyes wet with tears.

He couldn't hold himself back. His fingers dug into your thighs as he leaned forward, attaching his mouth to yours as his own climax overtook him. Joel snarled and growled, hips jittering as his hot cum painted the walls of your cunt white. When his orgasm died down, and his mouth became much gentler on yours, you realized just how full you felt.

Full of him, full of cum, full of love.

Joel pulled away slowly, gently running his fingers down your face. "You okay?" His voice was soft, eyes sparkling down at you.

"I am, actually."

He knew you were being earnest.

You watched as he took some tissue and cleaned you up, holding on to your hands as he helped you balance yourself on the ground, knees shaking from the weight of your previous pleasure.

"There you go, good girl." Joel helped slide your panties up your legs, gently giving your ass a squeeze. He relished in the sweet sound of your giggle.

A moment of silence passed, before he took your hand. You looked up at him, and he knew now was his moment.

"Do you want to go grab some dinner?"

You had never said yes faster.

You always thought shame and guilt were integral parts of the religious experience. You always thought chastity and purity were the best ways to feel God.

But that was before Joel Miller. That was before he took your body and idolized it. That was before he pleasured you in ways no man had dared to do before. When your bodies danced as one, when your souls became tangled beneath the bed sheets, on the desk, in the confession booth, you weren't thinking of God, you weren't thinking of Heaven or Hell.

Oh, no.

You were thinking of Joel Miller, the man who you willingly and happily chose over the promise of eternal salvation. And there wasn't an ounce of shame present.

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