03
Sel used two fingers to poke the red, angry tip of her leaking cock teasingly. She bit down on her dress skirt to hold it up and muffle her own soft moans. Her cheeks a pretty pink as she teasingly poked her cock incessantly.
Claude sat frozen on the priest's chair of the confessional booth as he listened to Sel's odd moans and the sound of her dress rustling. The saint's mind reeled, struggling to process what was happening to Sel, or what she was doing. Was this a carnal act? An act of self-pleasure he had heard before. His mind screamed at him to flee, to escape this blatant act of sin and evil.
Claude's own penis twitched against the silk pants of his robes as he continued to listen. He closed his eyes and tried to pray. But he couldn't. He was curious, morbidly fascinated with whatever she was doing.
Sel gritted down on the dress skirt as she wrapped her fingers around her cock and started to move her grip up and down.
Her imagination was running wild; she thought of taking him on the altar where he would give sermons sometimes, corrupting him. He would moan for her, right? Or would he protest like the cute saint he was? How frustrating it is to lewd a saint!
A part of her felt guilty for defiling the saint, she murmured, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Claude listened to her blankly. At least she was sorry, right? But those sounds never ceased.
"Fuck.." He heard her curse, "I'm cumming, Claude. I'm cumming for you."
'Cumming…?' Claude thought to himself. He heard a sound of something spurting out and wondered if that was cumming. Either way it was wrong! He needed to help her next time. Just not today! Not when…
Claude looked down at his crotch with a look of wanting to cry but had no tears. He bit his plump bottom lip hard, drawing a single drop of crimson blood. He needed to maintain his composure, resist the base and demonic urges this worldly woman presented.
Sel took the handkerchief she came into and slipped it inside of her pocket. It was so sticky and wet because of her cum but she couldn't just leave it in the confessional booth like some harlot.
'I'm such a hypocrite.' Sel thought inwardly. She muttered a prayer, asking for forgiveness once more before exiting the confessional booth.
With shaky hands, Claude fumbled with the door handle and stumbled out of the confessional. He leaned against the stone wall and slid down against it. He felt tainted and corrupted just by hearing the base, lustful desires of one woman. And yet his body betrayed him.
He clutched his face under the veil, his silver hair spilling across his fingers. He stared at the tenting in his nether regions with a peek through his fingers. How shameful!
He would surely confront her tomorrow.
Sel was busy today. She had gotten a load of orders for new plants. Truthfully, her business had gone down a significant amount since she moved here but she still sold so many plants, it barely made a dent in her fortune.
However, Sel was an infamous workaholic in the capital and continued her —self destructive — habits even in this little village, Bloom. Working let her avoid those sinful thoughts about the saint. He didn't deserve such desires from her. For Goddess's sake he was the saint! The saint!
A hand in the soil of a pot, Sel nurtured her magic through the soil. A few seconds later, a fully grown red peony plant grew in the pot.
'Wrong colour. Damn it, Sel, can't you focus? Stop thinking about him.' Sel chastised herself in her thoughts.
With furrowed eyebrows and a wrinkled forehead, Sel kept trying and trying to finish her orders. It was evening when she had finally finished her work. There still the peony order though, she couldn't stop thinking about him. Peonies were planted all over the church. And the church…
'No!'
Claude sat under the old oak tree with tension in his slender frame, scanning the faces of the faithful filling into the church. He had spent the entire night in anguished prayer, begging the Goddess for guidance and strength to walk away from evil. He wanted her to come, wanted to talk to her.
Minutes ticked by and church filled with the chatter and murmur of the faithful churchgoers, his heart grew heavier at the lack of pink hair in the crowd.
With a soft sigh, Claude closed the worn leather cover of the scripture book, his finger still tucked between its sacred pages. He knew he should appreciate the respite, the brief break from the turmoil of her presence, but he couldn't quiet the anticipation in his heart and the way she sounded yesterday.
Claude's heart leapt into his throat right when he caught sight of that unmistakable pink hair concealed beneath an exquisite lace, black veil. He watched, his silver eyes wide and wary as Sel knelt before the statue of the Goddess and began to pray. The saint's hands tightened around the worn leather scripture, his knuckles turning white as he fought to drown the sounds he heard yesterday in the confessional.
He couldn't hear, he was too far, even if he was near, his heart was beating too fast for him to hear. He saw the fervent way her lips moved, the desperate intensity in her shoulders. This was it! This was his chance to confront her and guide her back to the path of faith and purity.
And yet he couldn't bring himself to walk closer to her. What could he say? Tell her that he had been peeping on her confessions and then accuse her of committing some sort of carnal act that he himself wasn't sure of.
Claude stood rooted, clutching the leather-bound book to his chest, watching her walk towards the direction of the confessional booths. A surge of panic and unease gripped him at the realization that she intended to confess— maybe she would even repeat her actions from yesterday— and it came with a sickening feeling of dread in his stomach. Unable to resist the whisper of morbid curiosity, he followed her.
With a shaky hand, he reached out and slowly opened the door, his heart pounding in his ears as he took a seat in the priest's stall.
A glass window casting a kaleidoscope of colours across his visage separated them. He knew it wasn't right, knew that he shouldn't be here again. But he was just a human too.
Sel didn't even have the energy to kneel today, she sat on the floor and leaned her forehead against her knees. It was tiring. Wanting someone she couldn't have. Even fantasizing about the said person was forbidden and she would be stoned if she ever said them out loud.
Sel whispered defeatedly, "I'm so… evil. I can't believe I saw the saint like that again. What was I thinking. Goddess, I know dreams are our subconscious minds and I know I want him. But do I really want him to be tied up and gagged while I do sinful things to him?"
She buried her face deeper into her knees and continued, "You hate me, don't you, Goddess?"
Claude's saintly heart clenched in his chest at the anguished and defeated admission of Sel's whispered confession. Her words sent a chill down his spine. He sat stunned, listening as she spoke of her shameful dreams and desires. The sheltered and innocent Claude struggled to reconcile the depraved images with the pure and virtuous life he had sworn to live.
A pretty, red blush spread from his thin collarbones to his cheeks. He knew he should feel only revulsion and disgust but a small, secret part of him couldn't help but entertain the sinful image of being bound and gagged helpless to resist her lustful hands.
Claude shook his head, horrified by the very notion that such a thought could even cross his innocent, saintly mind. He clasped his hands and began to pray again for her… and for him.
Sel ran her fingers through her hair and glanced down at her crotch. She was hard again, "Just speaking of these lustful thoughts have made me want him again, Goddess. Am I a sinful woman or did you just create me this way?"
"Of all the people that day, was I the only one who saw his face when the wind blew his veil up?" Sel wondered as she closed her eyes and sat up against the wooden wall of the confessional booth.
Claude's prayers were interrupted by her helpless words. Her confession painting a picture of anguish because of him. He could hear the frustrated edge to her tone. He truly couldn't believe a glimpse of his face had driven her down the path of sin.
'That day? Is she talking about when he visited the capital?' Claude wondered. That was the only time he remembered his veil being blown open by the wind. That was some time ago though…
With trembling hands, Claude covered his burning face, burying his blushing cheek in his slender fingers as he struggled to understand just how long she liked him.
Sel felt apathetic staring at this traitorous cock of hers. She didn't want to do this anymore, but she really couldn't help herself from wrapping her hand around her cock and imagining it was his tight, warm asspussy.
"I think I'm going crazy for him, Goddess." Sel whispered softly, her eyes closing from the pleasure of her fingers working on her cock. It was late into the night, and she didn't have the energy to be reserved about her moans.
Claude's eyes widened in shocked disbelief as he listened to the lewd sounds emanating from the opposite side of the confession booth. His heart raced and his breath caught in his throat at the realization of her doing that 'cumming' thing again.
He felt dizzy and hot listening to the shameful and sinful noises that assaulted his ears. He had never heard such brazen, lewd sounds before and it was doing a number on him.
He brought his trembling hand up and bit down hard on the tender flesh, stifling the anguished whimper that threatened to escape him. He started to pray again, begging the Goddess for guidance. And yet, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the shadowy outline of her form as she lost herself to the lustful desires that consumed her.
"Haah, haah…" Sel panted, her strokes slow and tight, she had time today, "I wonder if the saint does lewd stuff like this too."
Claude couldn't believe his ears. If he wasn't red before, he would definitely be red now after hearing her speaking of him in such a lewd and sinful context.
He knew with every fiber of his being that such base, carnal acts were strictly forbidden to him — that his sacred vows of chastity and purity demanded nothing less than absolute celibacy and innocence in body and mind. And yet, the mere idea of wondering, of her daring to imagine him engaging in such depraved activities… it sent a shiver down his spine and another straight to his untouched penis.
"Ahn~" Sel moaned softly as she imagined him bent over the table in her office, his pale, plump ass propped up in the air, "So cute, Claud- ahn~ You're so pretty."
In her fantasies, he would be reluctant because of his saintly status but wouldn't be able to resist mortal desires. She used her free hand to pull down the neckline of her gown to pop out her ample boobs.
She pinched a pink nipple and moaned loudly, "Ahn, Claude, so lewd ~"
Claude used his clasped hands to cover his face and eyes. He saw it, he saw her pulling out her breasts! Goddess, why must she be so sinful. But he was too, wasn't he? He stared down at his penis that was hard and creating a wet patch on his robes' pants. He should leave, but the way she called out his name as if he was her everything… It drowned everything else out.
"Claude, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for defiling you over and over in my head." Sel whispered to herself, but her hips never stop bucking into the tight grip of her hands as she continued, "But it feels so good to imagine you're writhing under me and moaning from my cock."
A strangled gasp escaped Claude's lips only to be promptly stifled by his trembling fingers. He gripped the Goddess's pendant around his neck, his knuckles turning white from the sheer force.
'What's a cock…?' Claude didn't know the vulgar words to describe genitalia, only knowing the proper and respectful words taught by the priests.
"Ahn ~ his pretty, little body.. I want to kiss him everywhere, leave hickies everywhere." Sel mewled loudly, feeling her cock pulse and the telltale throb of an orgasm. She pulled her nipple, imagining Claude, too eagerly, tugging her nipple.
"I'm so sorry... Ahhhhn~ I'm cumming on your face, Claude." Sel moaned loudly as she came on her white dress without any reservations. She knew deep down she why wore a white dress today, even though she told herself she wouldn't do this again.
Claude heard that spurting sound of her 'cumming', and she wanted to do it on his face? The very idea of her 'cumming' on his face and releasing something born from lust left him feeling tainted and defiled in a way he had never experienced before.
Sel stared down at the sticky cum streaking her stomach. How bothersome! She used her handkerchief to wipe away the rogue cum on her stomach. Afterwards, she pulled up the dress to cover her ample boobs. Sel walked out of the confessional booth with slumped shoulders and a stain on her white dress. She was glad it was night; no one could see the cum stain on her pristine white dress.
Claude sat on the confessional as if he was whiplashed by the whole encounter. His heart was racing and his breath coming sharp, uneven gasps as he struggled to regain his composure. He clutched at his robe tightly as he fought to banish the wanton moans and the sound of her cumming. He stared at his penis still leaking desperately and aching for... for what?
He wasn't sure what to do anymore with this lewd, sinful woman.