Priestly Encounters Ch. 3

I highly recommend you read the first 2 chapters of this story, as you will probably not know what is going on

I awoke after a hard day’s night rather somberly. I rubbed my eyes and stretched my long arms over my head. As I placed my feet on the cold hardwood beneath my feet, my mind continued to race with the endless possibilities that kept formulating in my mind. So many “what if?’s”. It was driving me insane.

My eyes were gritty, as if there were no more tears left to even moisten the hard globes in my head. I stripped off the clothes that I had slept in, which were the ones from the night before with Tony, and lifted myself rather slowly under the warm jet of water being elicited from the showerhead. I stood there, the water hitting my head, supporting myself on the walls of the shower.

I didn’t know whether to feel guilty, angry, hatred...what...please someone just shoot me now.

As I toweled off, I heard the doorbell ring.

“Who the hell is that?” I groaned.

I pushed the intercom button.

“Who is it?” I said.

“Kara...it’s Father Patrick.”

I saw black spots in front of my eyes, gasped for breath and pushed the button ever so gently.

“I’m in the middle of something” Looking down at my bare breasts. “But give me 10 minutes and I’ll be done...alright?”

“Sure my dear.” He said.

He sounded sad...I felt sorry for him too. The emotions running through my head had been somewhat psychotic, considering the circumstances.

I slipped on a tank top, foregoing the bra...and khaki shorts, also foregoing the underwear.

Pulling my soaked blonde hair up into a messy ponytail, I slinked over to the intercom and buzzed him up.

“Come on up Fr. Patrick.”

I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, and then he paused for a bit in front of my door, before knocking.

I wobbled over to the door in bare feet and opened the door.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

Fr. Patrick was standing there in a finely tailored black suit, with the black shirt on underneath and the Roman collar. He was also holding about a dozen flowers.

He looked at me rather meekly and handed me the flowers.

“I was thinking you might like these...well...you know.” He said, unsure and uncomfortable.

I took them from him, and let him in. Walking over to the sink to find something to put the flowers in, I pointed out the couch to him.

My mind was once again reeling.

He said he would drop by, but did I really expect him to show up?

I padded softly back to my living room and settled in to my comfy easy chair. I folded one of my legs underneath me.

His eyes were focused on the floor. The man was obviously troubled by what had happened the previous night.

“Kara...the reason I came by is that I was hoping that maybe you could help me come to a conclusion about first, what I saw last night, and what I should do about it.” The speech sounded practiced, pre-prepared.

“I’ll answer whatever you’d like Fr. Patrick.” I said quietly.

The situation was delicate. Depending on my answers, Anthony would stay or go.

“Kara, I know some of these may be rather inappropriate questions, but I need to know, considering these trying circumstances, and you.” He paused for a moment, deep in thought. “Was the encounter I walked in on last night consensual?”

“Yes Father” I was afraid to say anything else.

“Was it the first encounter between yourself and Father Anthony?” He looked into my eyes.

“No Father, it wasn’t.” I felt the tears brimming in my eyes.

“I’m sure you know this is not allowed.”

“Yes, I know.” I felt a heavy tear finally fall onto my right cheek.

“Come here Kara.” He motioned to the spot next to him on the couch.

When I sat down, he shifted to look into my eyes.

“I don’t know what to do about this Kara...I need you to help me decide.”

I was confused. Me? What could I possibly help him with?

He spoke again, his voice cracking. “I haven’t told anyone about what I saw last night, and I’m willing to make you a proposition so that I will never have to.”

I nearly swallowed my tongue. What the fuck was he thinking?

“What is that Father?”

I was deeply respectful of the man, I’ve known him for nearly as long as Anthony, and he had always been quite fond of me, going out of his way to accommodate me.

“Well, I was thinking...maybe that if you could find some way to keep me happy, the thought of telling anyone wouldn’t cross my mind.”

His gaze shifted to lock directly on mine and his eyes darkened considerably.

I finally understood his malicious intents, and I couldn’t believe what he was asking of me.

“Kara...” He reached a hand up to cup my cheek in his palm. “I’ve been wondering for so long what it would be like to touch you, to hear you breathing so close to me. I know you probably think this is the most disgusting thing in the world that I am proposing to you, but this is the only way it can be...or else someone will eventually find out.” His gaze shifted to look down my shirt, and I immediately grew fearful. His right hand was on my shoulder, and he was gripping my collarbone almost painfully. “You cannot tell Anthony either.”

I nearly fainted right then. What he was proposing was like rape with words. His disgusting words echoed in the room.

I selfishly thought the situation couldn’t get ANY worse. Wow, I was so incredibly wrong.

“The first thing I want from you Kara...”

I tried to push myself away from him off of his broad chest.

“Oh, then you want me to tell Monsignor what I walked into last night?” He said with a sneer.

Monsignor Kaplan was the head of our church, and a very powerful man.

I looked down, defeated.

“What do you want me to do Father?”

“Well first of all, call me Pat.” He said, almost mocking me.

“Okay Pat...what do you want me to do?”

His left hand shifted and I followed it, down to the crotch of his pants where he proceeded to unzip his pants and fish out a monster dick.

The son of a bitch had to be almost 8 inches long, but was nowhere near the girth of Anthony’s.

“Suck my dick Kara. That beautiful mouth of yours has to be good for something.” He was stroking the monster protruding from his black trousers.

I was hesitant. How could I possibly do this when I was being forced to?

His right hand was pushing my head down, and I was completely disgusted.

I looked down at his dick, and the purple head was throbbing and pulsing.

He continued to push my head down, now roughly doing so.

I opened my mouth, and started to suck it, making no effort to do anything more than I had to.

“Oh yes bitch...your mouth is so fucking hot.” He hissed.

His hands were moving my head up and down, forcing me down onto the long rod.

“Mmmmm yesss Kara....I’m fucking your mouth.”

I sucked gently, I was trying not to do anything special, as there was really no reason to, I had no feelings for the man, and he was using me like a cheap whore.

I felt his dick pulsating in my mouth.

Then all of the sudden, he pushed me all the way down onto his dick, and I almost gagged, then it went past that, and he grinded his pelvis into my face.

“Oh yes bitch...you’re deep throating my big fucking dick.”

I was so disgusted...but I kept thinking to myself, I love Tony, and I don’t want to lose him for anything. Giving a cheap blowjob was a small price to pay for Tony.

“Oh...12 fucking years of cum...you better swallow every damn drop bitch...this is a fucking delicacy....”

He was on a power trip...I was ready to die.

I felt his spongy head quiver, then erupt into my mouth, sending long spurts of hot, salty jizz down my throat. I swallowed it, ready to vomit.

He pulled me off of his dick by my hair, and stroked the ever wilting monster with his hand.

“Oh damn girl...no wonder Tony likes to hit that.” Motioning towards my hips.

I was amazed....how could this supposedly holy man be a sex crazed pervert?

He stuffed his now limp dick back into his pants.

“Don’t think that will be all bitch...I’ll get what I want from you.” He smiled evilly.

He stood up to leave.

“Hoped you liked the flowers you whore.”

He slammed the door behind him.

I collapsed onto the couch, amazed at what I had just done...wondering if it was worth it. Going back and forth between my feelings of love for Tony and possibly the things that Fr. Pat was going to do to me in the coming future.

I had yet to hear from Tony...and wanted nothing more to be in his strong arms, with him whispering to me about what an angel I was.

I sobbed into the pillow and dozed off.

Sleep was now better than real life.

I was dreading tomorrow.

To be continued