Cock of Ages Ch. 15

byCreamer©

I gave her a rodding that kept her at the brink of orgasm for ages, then let her tumble off of that sweet cliff and into the icy depths of pleasure. She was cumming, and cumming hard. She was also praying and casting plenty of hallelujahs, which I found a little disconcerting. But I was in character, and I encouraged her pious pleas for salvation the same way I'd encourage a dockside whore to talk filthy while she was getting fucked that hard. Everyone has their kink: Shelly's just involved archaic religious scripture. I've seen weirder.

I rode her hard for what seemed like hours, but after her fourth or fifth major orgasm I eased back, slowing my pace significantly, and began to question her about her actions in the last decade. I asked who she had coupled with, who she had orally serviced, and whether or not she continued her daily masturbation. She adamantly agreed that she had done all of it – she was very devout.

Finally, I spilled my seed deep in her clasping cunt, a sheen of sweat on her back and thighs. She lay panting in a witless heap until I withdrew. Then she quickly spun around and recaptured my cock between her lips and tenderly sucked away our combined juices. And here I was pretending to be the angel . . .

"Enough, child," I said, pushing her gently away. I sat back on my "throne" – a massive Italian wooden chair I had borrowed from one of the other rooms – and she sat attentively on the bed, head slightly bowed, eyes glowing from a combination of drugs, orgasmic high, and religious ecstasy. "What would your greatest joy be, child?" I asked her.

"Lord? To serve you, and God," she said, as if it was obvious.

"Clearly, and thou hast done well in His sight," I sighed. "Can thou build this church? Art thou ready to spread this new word?"

"I can only try, Lord," she said, doubtfully.

"He shall grant thee strength," I assured her. "And what ever else you need. Thy child shall be well provided for."

"She is my greatest earthly joy," Shelly confirmed. "I often wonder whether my love for God is greater, or my love for my child. I pray I never have to face Abraham's dilemma."

"Thou shalt be spared that, at least," I smiled. "No, it is the Lord's wish that thou raiseth her up as a cherished daughter, and that she be kept well and safe. It is His wish that all children be kept so . . . and His great disappointment that they are not."

"Yes, Lord," she said, obediently.

"Now demonstrate to me the singular sacrament I have commanded thee to perform daily," I said, trying to steer the conversation away from my daughter – my only daughter I knew of – and back to the gutter, where it belonged. Shelly smiled demurely and parted her thighs, giving me a splendid view of her furry bush. I watched as her fingers began to comb through the fur, seeking her clitoris, and soon it was moving with the speedy rhythm of a flamenco guitar. She brought herself off in less than five minutes – understandable, in light of her condition. It was no surprise that her show also put some more lead in my pencil. By the time she crash-dived into another climax, I was hard as a rock again.

"Exquisite," I commented, appreciatively. "Thou hast mastered the art. Perform it daily, as I have bid thee, for it is Holy in the eyes of the Lord."

"It shall be done," she said, reverently, as she wiped away the beads of sweat that had collected on her brow.

"Now, the time hath come to undertake the third holy office, completing the trinity of the carnal sacraments. Turn thyself over and present thy fundament."

It took her a moment to parse what I had said, but then she obediently flipped over and prepared herself for me. If she had any reluctance about the act, she didn't show it. I took a moment myself to admire her gorgeous ass, still as tight as it had been a decade ago (a few weeks, from my perspective) but with just a little extra padding around the edges. Womanly, I'd call it. I stroked her cheeks for a while, watching her shudder at the sensation, while I poured lube all over her crack. I wanted this ride to last a while.

When my index finger sank into her butt without resistance, I knew she was ready. I positioned the head of my dick at her sphincter, then pushed ever millimeter of my peter deep into her bowels. She moaned loudly, partially in pain, partially in drug-induced ecstasy. Then she settled down to take the most ferocious assfucking of her life.

I enjoyed that to no end, and took the time to change the background music to something a little more intense. I enjoy a nice piece of sodomy, especially if its under false pretenses. This was absolutely exquisite.

Every bit of pain she felt from the friction of my large cock going through her very tight anal ring she was mentally and emotionally transforming into religious ecstasy. The rougher I was, the more holy she felt. The hallelujahs had stopped, to be replaced by one long undulating moan of intensity.

Shelly pushed back at me, too, driving her hips back to impale her ass on my dick. She was cumming in one long anal orgasm, which only added to my own excitement. I started quoting something in Latin I had memorized once (I think it was Winnie the Pooh – my Latin was a little elementary) and I brought the music up as my pace quickened. I was headed towards orgasm.

Just to push it over the top, I leaned over her back, seating my dick deep within her ass, and reached around with my tiny but powerful vibrator. When it hit her clit she went wild, squirming madly at the sensation, which made her ass tighten spasmodically around my cock. I took her through three quick climaxes that way, and then withdrew my hand in favor of a full-bore buggering, hands on her hips, until I filled her bowels with my spunk.

When at last I withdrew, it only took a nod to have Shelly on her knees, worshipping my fouled dick with her mouth again. She didn't mind one bit. I mused on my plans while she worked: how she would wake up in this bed, miles from home, naked . . . with new little wings surrounding her harp tattoo.

How my bookie would drop twenty thousand dollars in cash into her little church's "love offering" box in a few days. How she would move to California with our daughter and start a new life, and a new church. How I would visit her in the future and send her off on other quests. I touched her head while she suckled me, gently stroking her neck. In a few minutes she'd be unconscious from the drugs and the orgasm and I could start my exit strategy.

But for now I let her suck my cock clean, humming happily as she loved it with her mouth. She was sucking an angel, after all, and had been given divine permission to promote her sexuality as a sacrament.

Religion does weird things to people.

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