Chapter 127 My Filthy Little Priests
Father Michael fucked us without mercy, pulling out of me only to push into Baron, then back again, using us like we were made for this.
“Feel that?” he growled. “Feel how full you both are? How owned?”
“Yes Father.” We gasped together.
“You’re mine,” he said, voice rough. “Both of you. Every mark. Every whip. Every drop of cum I’ve left in you. Say it.”
“We’re yours,” I choked out. “Yours to punish. Yours to use. Yours forever.”
Baron echoed, voice trembling. “Yours, Father. Always.”
He fucked us harder, hands gripping our hips.
“Oh yeah Father. Just like that. Give it to me harder. Please.” I groaned out loud, arching my back even more of his cock deeper.
When he finally came it was deep inside Baron first, then pulled out and finished in me, his cum thick in me, marking us both again.
He stayed buried in me and I reveled in the feeling.
Then he pulled out, untied our wrists.
We collapsed, panting as our bodies pressed together, marked and aching and still so hard it hurt.
Father Michael looked down at us, his eyes dark with satisfaction.
“Tonight isn’t over,” he said quietly. “Get on the desk. Side by side. And spread your legs.”
We obeyed without hesitation.
He stepped between us, his hands stroking our leaking cocks. Our thighs shook from his touch.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Now let’s see how long you can last before you beg me to let you come.”
Father Michael walked away, then stopped, the room window behind him. “Father Will, Father Baron. Come here.”
We knelt beside the window, our bodies slick with sweat and cum and the pain from the whipping still coursing through my body.
My legs shook deliciously from everything he’d already taken from us. Father Michael stood above us, his shirt open and cock still half hard and glistening from being inside us both.
He looked so fucking hot.
Father Michael looked down, his eyes dark with lust then reached out, fingers sliding through my hair, then Baron’s, pulling us closer until our faces were inches from his cock.
“Both of you,” he said, voice low and rough like he was ministering to us, “show me how grateful you are.”
I leaned in first, my tongue on the underside of his dick, tasting salt and him and the smell of us still on his erection.
Father Baron did the same on the other side, his lips kissing softly and together we licked Father Michael.
We started slow and worshipful, from the base of his hard cock to the tip, meeting at the head where we kissed around it, leaving sloppy and open mouthed kisses on him, tongues moving against each other on his dick.
Father Michael groaned, his fingers pulling at our hair. “That’s it, my filthy little priests, clean me up, taste what you’ve done to me, what I’ve done to you.”
Baron sucked the head into his mouth and I moved lower, licking along the shaft, then down to his balls, taking one into my mouth, rolling it gently while Baron bobbed his head.
“Fucking shit. Ah, just like that. Make those slurpy, wet sounds for me.” Father Michael grunted and I felt my own cock throb painfully, aching from denial and need.
Father Michael’s hips rocked forward, fucking our mouths. “Look at you, sharing me so sweetly, so desperately, two mouths made for sin.”
He pulled us off with a wet pop, cock fully hard again, slick with our spit. “Up. Against the window. Both of you.”
We rushed to obey, spreading our legs immediately. Moonlight shone on our skin, showing every trail of drying cum. Anyone looking up from the garden would see us.
Two priests… Naked.
Hard
Waiting to be fucked. Waiting for punishment.
Father Michael stepped behind me first, hands gripping my hips, cock nudging my entrance, still slick and open from earlier. “You first, Will,” he murmured against my ear, “because I want Baron to watch every second of you falling apart.”
He pushed in slow, so slow, letting me feel every thick inch stretch me open again, filling me until his hips met my ass. I moaned, head falling back to his shoulder, and he started moving in me, so fucking deep.
Baron stood, his cock still leaking, his hand near himself but not daring to touch without permission. “Father… please…”
“Watch,” Father Michael growled, picking up the pace, fucking me harder, the wet slap of skin on skin al
l i would ever want. “Watch how I take him, watch how he opens for me, how he begs without words.”
I couldn’t stop the sounds spilling from my mouth. “Oh fuck. Fuck. Yeah. Like that. Father Michael. Oh God.”