Father Murphy
In 1968 I was 26. My husband had just died of leukemia, leaving me with a five year old son. I decided to move back by my folks in a nice, new subdivision. They loved taking care of my boy when I had to leave on business, or wanted to just be alone.
I was an angry person. I was so happy being married, and loved my husband and son. We were having so much fun, and then he was gone. I swore I would have as much fun as I could, with however much time I had, with whomever I wanted.
I started going to church. It was the one where I had been abused by the parish priest back when I was 14. He was long dead, so all the place held were memories, some good, some bad.
One day a new priest showed up. He was the assistant, and right out of the seminary. His name was Father Murphy. He was medium height and weight, but had a shock of red hair and freckles. He looked very young, and I wanted him very badly.
I started going to mass when he was the priest. I would wear a top that showed my breasts when I took communion, just as I did when I was 14. I figured it worked then, it would work now. The only difference being my breasts were much bigger. The altar boy enjoyed it a lot. The lad was smiling ear to ear throughout the rest of the services.
I called the rectory one day and asked if Father Murphy could come by and bless my new house. It was a thing they did back then. This way, as a new parishioner, they could hit you up for more money. If I had my way, he’d be hitting me up alright.
When he showed up, I welcomed him in. I was wearing a mini skirt, a thin blouse, and high heels. He was so cute. He couldn’t look me in the eyes. Between looking at my tits and legs, he acted very shy. I put him on the couch, and I sat across from him in a chair. There’s something about mini skirts, even with her legs together, a woman with nice legs cannot hide her pussy, and the young priest saw that right away. Of course, I had to cross and uncross my legs a few times. That Irish boy blushed red every time I did.
We were having a nice chat. He was a pleasant man. I asked him if he would like to see some photos of my family. He said, “That would be very nice.” I got the album and sat next to him on his left. I bent over, giving him a good view of my tits, and sat down. When I sat, my blouse hung in such a way that he had a great view of my entire left breast.
When I sat, I made sure my skirt went very high on my legs. If Father Murphy leaned forward slightly, he could see my nicely trimmed pussy, and he was leaning forward a lot. I took the album and gently put it on his lap, the back of my hand resting on his growing cock. I acted completely innocent, chatting away as turning the pages caused me to gently rub his cock. I would point out the bottom left picture so that he could stare at my pussy innocently, my legs slightly spreading each time I turned the page.
I started to move my hand on his cock with more pressure. His dick was fully erect under my hand, going up along his left pelvis. When I sat next to him, I had sat so his left hand was tightly held between us. I said, “I’m sorry Father, I must be crushing your hand,” and took him by the wrist, and placed it on my thigh near my pussy. I was glad to feel him very slightly squeeze my thigh. I just kept chatting along.
He said, “I should be going.” I said, “Please don’t go yet, Father, I haven’t had any visitors lately. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.” At that I turned my hand around and clutched his cock, giving it a good squeeze. He spasmed ever so slightly, so I did that a few more times. Suddenly I saw a look of fear on his face. He looked me in the eye and said, “Oh God!” I felt his hips give a small jerk, and the good priest came in his pants with a low, “Oh no.”.
He tried to get up, but I leaned into him, feeling the moisture coming through his pants. I said, “Oh my, Father, I’m sorry. Let me clean you up.” He started to stammer, but I quickly undid his belt, and took down his zipper. The poor man must have cum a quart. “Let’s get these wet things off, you can’t walk into the rectory like this.” I reached into his underwear, put my hand on his cock, and his whole body just went stiff. It was then that I noticed his left hand was up against my pussy, slightly moving over it. I smiled at him. He just closed his eyes.
I pulled his hand away from my pussy, laid him back on the couch, took off his shoes, and pulled his pants down and off. I had some of his cum on my hand, so I touched his shirt, on purpose, and said, “Oh Father, I messed up your shirt. Let’s take that off.” He said, weakly, “Oh dear God,” and let me unbutton his shirt, and then I took it off. I almost laughed out loud. He looked like one of those vintage porn movies the fraternity brothers showed while I was getting laid. He only had his black socks, and his priest’s collar on.
I knelt down next to him on his right side. I took his hand and placed it on my pussy. His eyes opened as he started to move his fingers slowly all over it. I bent down and took his half hard cock into my mouth. He jerked, and tried to get up, but I took my hands and dug my red painted nails into his red chest hair, and dug them into his skin. He laid back down, moaning again. I looked at his cock, there was a big red ring around it from my lipstick. I guess red was the color of the day.
I kept sucking on his cock. I felt his middle finger find my hole and drive into my depths. His prick slowly started to get hard. When I had him as hard as possible, I pulled it out of my mouth. His skin was like alabaster, except for the lipstick ring. He was trembling. I stood up and slowly stripped naked, his eyes devouring me, and jumped up on top of him, my legs on both sides of him, my favorite position. I started rubbing his cock between my pussy lips. He sat up a little, and said, “I’ve never…” I pushed him down and said, “Father, how can you talk about sex as being bad if you don’t know anything about it? You need to do this. Consider it more ‘religious training.’” I bent down and kissed him, and put his dick inside of me. He sighed into my open mouth. I started slowly, moving up and down. I put his hands on my breasts, and he squeezed them hard, exploring my nipples.
I looked up and there was my neighbor, Janet, standing in the doorway between my kitchen and family room. She had come in the side door and was now standing where the priest couldn’t see her, her skirt up, her fingers rubbing her pussy. She looked so cute with nylons on, high heels, and fingers in her pussy.
She pointed at herself, and then the priest. I kept going up and down. Since he had already climaxed once, I figured it would take awhile for him to cum again. I wanted Father Murphy for myself today, so I shook my head and mouthed, “Next time.” She made a sad face, then pointed that she would watch from the kitchen where she couldn’t be seen. I nodded and smiled. I love being watched.
I felt the familiar feeling of orgasm starting in my cunt. Father’s mouth was moving in silent prayer. He let go of my breasts and grabbed a cheek of my ass in each hand and squeezed, moving my ass faster and faster up and down on his shaft. I thought, “You’re learning fast there, aren’t you, Father?” That did it for me. I started to cum hard. I yelled, “Oh, Father!” I thought I heard Janet moan from the kitchen, so I bent over and was saying things in Father Murphy’s ear like, “Oh God, you’re incredible,” and “Cum for me Father,” so he wouldn’t hear Janet. He yelled, “Sweet Jesus!” and jerked his hips up hard into me. His eyes closed tightly, he stopped breathing, and went rigid. I whispered in his ear, “Breath, Father,” and he let out his breath forcefully, his hips dropping to the couch. I held him to me, feeling his heart pound against my chest. His arms had gone tightly around me when he started to cum, so now he just wanted to stay that way. I had no place else to go, so I enjoyed the cuddle with my new lover.
After our breathing had finally slowed to near normal, he started to release me, and I him. I sat up on him, his cock still in me, and we smiled at each other. He said, “I had no idea that it would be that good.” I kissed him, said, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” So we did the best we could. He had to put his underwear in his pocket. It was just too wet. I cleaned his shirt, and walked him to the front door. I said, “Father, you are going to need more religious training. I want you to come over every Monday at this time.” I thought he would just say “No,” but he surprised me. He said, “I’ll be here.”
After Father Murphy left, Janet came out of the kitchen totally naked, took me by the hand to my bedroom, laid me down, got between my legs, and said, “I want to taste his holy sperm." I found that funny as she locked her lips to my soaked pussy and worked me to a massive climax. After I gave her a good orgasm as well, we sat, naked in my kitchen, drinking coffee, talking about how we were going to get all the girls involved in loving our new young priest. As it turned out, it wasn’t hard…we got him hard, but getting him to fuck four women at once turned out to be easy. Imagine that
I was an angry person. I was so happy being married, and loved my husband and son. We were having so much fun, and then he was gone. I swore I would have as much fun as I could, with however much time I had, with whomever I wanted.
I started going to church. It was the one where I had been abused by the parish priest back when I was 14. He was long dead, so all the place held were memories, some good, some bad.
One day a new priest showed up. He was the assistant, and right out of the seminary. His name was Father Murphy. He was medium height and weight, but had a shock of red hair and freckles. He looked very young, and I wanted him very badly.
I started going to mass when he was the priest. I would wear a top that showed my breasts when I took communion, just as I did when I was 14. I figured it worked then, it would work now. The only difference being my breasts were much bigger. The altar boy enjoyed it a lot. The lad was smiling ear to ear throughout the rest of the services.
I called the rectory one day and asked if Father Murphy could come by and bless my new house. It was a thing they did back then. This way, as a new parishioner, they could hit you up for more money. If I had my way, he’d be hitting me up alright.
When he showed up, I welcomed him in. I was wearing a mini skirt, a thin blouse, and high heels. He was so cute. He couldn’t look me in the eyes. Between looking at my tits and legs, he acted very shy. I put him on the couch, and I sat across from him in a chair. There’s something about mini skirts, even with her legs together, a woman with nice legs cannot hide her pussy, and the young priest saw that right away. Of course, I had to cross and uncross my legs a few times. That Irish boy blushed red every time I did.
We were having a nice chat. He was a pleasant man. I asked him if he would like to see some photos of my family. He said, “That would be very nice.” I got the album and sat next to him on his left. I bent over, giving him a good view of my tits, and sat down. When I sat, my blouse hung in such a way that he had a great view of my entire left breast.
When I sat, I made sure my skirt went very high on my legs. If Father Murphy leaned forward slightly, he could see my nicely trimmed pussy, and he was leaning forward a lot. I took the album and gently put it on his lap, the back of my hand resting on his growing cock. I acted completely innocent, chatting away as turning the pages caused me to gently rub his cock. I would point out the bottom left picture so that he could stare at my pussy innocently, my legs slightly spreading each time I turned the page.
I started to move my hand on his cock with more pressure. His dick was fully erect under my hand, going up along his left pelvis. When I sat next to him, I had sat so his left hand was tightly held between us. I said, “I’m sorry Father, I must be crushing your hand,” and took him by the wrist, and placed it on my thigh near my pussy. I was glad to feel him very slightly squeeze my thigh. I just kept chatting along.
He said, “I should be going.” I said, “Please don’t go yet, Father, I haven’t had any visitors lately. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.” At that I turned my hand around and clutched his cock, giving it a good squeeze. He spasmed ever so slightly, so I did that a few more times. Suddenly I saw a look of fear on his face. He looked me in the eye and said, “Oh God!” I felt his hips give a small jerk, and the good priest came in his pants with a low, “Oh no.”.
He tried to get up, but I leaned into him, feeling the moisture coming through his pants. I said, “Oh my, Father, I’m sorry. Let me clean you up.” He started to stammer, but I quickly undid his belt, and took down his zipper. The poor man must have cum a quart. “Let’s get these wet things off, you can’t walk into the rectory like this.” I reached into his underwear, put my hand on his cock, and his whole body just went stiff. It was then that I noticed his left hand was up against my pussy, slightly moving over it. I smiled at him. He just closed his eyes.
I pulled his hand away from my pussy, laid him back on the couch, took off his shoes, and pulled his pants down and off. I had some of his cum on my hand, so I touched his shirt, on purpose, and said, “Oh Father, I messed up your shirt. Let’s take that off.” He said, weakly, “Oh dear God,” and let me unbutton his shirt, and then I took it off. I almost laughed out loud. He looked like one of those vintage porn movies the fraternity brothers showed while I was getting laid. He only had his black socks, and his priest’s collar on.
I knelt down next to him on his right side. I took his hand and placed it on my pussy. His eyes opened as he started to move his fingers slowly all over it. I bent down and took his half hard cock into my mouth. He jerked, and tried to get up, but I took my hands and dug my red painted nails into his red chest hair, and dug them into his skin. He laid back down, moaning again. I looked at his cock, there was a big red ring around it from my lipstick. I guess red was the color of the day.
I kept sucking on his cock. I felt his middle finger find my hole and drive into my depths. His prick slowly started to get hard. When I had him as hard as possible, I pulled it out of my mouth. His skin was like alabaster, except for the lipstick ring. He was trembling. I stood up and slowly stripped naked, his eyes devouring me, and jumped up on top of him, my legs on both sides of him, my favorite position. I started rubbing his cock between my pussy lips. He sat up a little, and said, “I’ve never…” I pushed him down and said, “Father, how can you talk about sex as being bad if you don’t know anything about it? You need to do this. Consider it more ‘religious training.’” I bent down and kissed him, and put his dick inside of me. He sighed into my open mouth. I started slowly, moving up and down. I put his hands on my breasts, and he squeezed them hard, exploring my nipples.
I looked up and there was my neighbor, Janet, standing in the doorway between my kitchen and family room. She had come in the side door and was now standing where the priest couldn’t see her, her skirt up, her fingers rubbing her pussy. She looked so cute with nylons on, high heels, and fingers in her pussy.
She pointed at herself, and then the priest. I kept going up and down. Since he had already climaxed once, I figured it would take awhile for him to cum again. I wanted Father Murphy for myself today, so I shook my head and mouthed, “Next time.” She made a sad face, then pointed that she would watch from the kitchen where she couldn’t be seen. I nodded and smiled. I love being watched.
I felt the familiar feeling of orgasm starting in my cunt. Father’s mouth was moving in silent prayer. He let go of my breasts and grabbed a cheek of my ass in each hand and squeezed, moving my ass faster and faster up and down on his shaft. I thought, “You’re learning fast there, aren’t you, Father?” That did it for me. I started to cum hard. I yelled, “Oh, Father!” I thought I heard Janet moan from the kitchen, so I bent over and was saying things in Father Murphy’s ear like, “Oh God, you’re incredible,” and “Cum for me Father,” so he wouldn’t hear Janet. He yelled, “Sweet Jesus!” and jerked his hips up hard into me. His eyes closed tightly, he stopped breathing, and went rigid. I whispered in his ear, “Breath, Father,” and he let out his breath forcefully, his hips dropping to the couch. I held him to me, feeling his heart pound against my chest. His arms had gone tightly around me when he started to cum, so now he just wanted to stay that way. I had no place else to go, so I enjoyed the cuddle with my new lover.
After our breathing had finally slowed to near normal, he started to release me, and I him. I sat up on him, his cock still in me, and we smiled at each other. He said, “I had no idea that it would be that good.” I kissed him, said, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” So we did the best we could. He had to put his underwear in his pocket. It was just too wet. I cleaned his shirt, and walked him to the front door. I said, “Father, you are going to need more religious training. I want you to come over every Monday at this time.” I thought he would just say “No,” but he surprised me. He said, “I’ll be here.”
After Father Murphy left, Janet came out of the kitchen totally naked, took me by the hand to my bedroom, laid me down, got between my legs, and said, “I want to taste his holy sperm." I found that funny as she locked her lips to my soaked pussy and worked me to a massive climax. After I gave her a good orgasm as well, we sat, naked in my kitchen, drinking coffee, talking about how we were going to get all the girls involved in loving our new young priest. As it turned out, it wasn’t hard…we got him hard, but getting him to fuck four women at once turned out to be easy. Imagine that
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