Father Gregory Priestly Disguise

He was a handsome, articulate and manipulative man who convincingly wore the mask of religiosity. As a Priest of the Catholic Church, Father Gregory salaciously taught a young girl about God, the Church, religion, men, and sex.

Be warned -- I know some of you will be upset, and so I ask for your forgiveness in advance. What I am going to recount here, is something that I have to do for my piece of mind and spiritual growth. If you are offended by these topics in an erotic story, please don't read any further, but if it whets your sexual curiosity then, please suspend your disbelief, read on and enjoy.

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My name is Madison Waterhouse. I'm twenty years old, quiet, introverted, smart, and a good Catholic girl. Appearance wise, I have a petite but athletic build, with long, thick, blonde hair, big blue eyes, and long curled lashes that attest to my father's Nordic genes. My olive complexion, full sensual lips, ample, high breasts and firm, tight behind, I owe without question to my mother's Mediterranean stock.

What was important to my family while I was growing up was being attentive in my studies, obedient to my parents, the Church and of course the Priests and Nuns. I was born late in my parents' life and marriage; my Father was in his fifties and my Mother her early forties when I came along. I had a happy childhood until my Dad left my Mom and ran off with our next door neighbor when I was nine. It's been Mom and me ever since.

For the majority of my education, I was home-schooled and reared in the teachings of the Catholic Church. I'll be the first to admit that when I met Father Gregory, I was sheltered, inexperienced and very naive for someone my age. I had never encountered anyone, anything or any situation that had challenged my existence or caused me to question my upbringing and morals. Mom was a devout Catholic, and our household was very strict and religious; in fact, I don't think it would be too much of a stretch to say Mom was a bit fanatical. We were in church once a day, and I was in the Confessional at least twice a week. Don't get me wrong; I certainly didn't mind all of the time I was expected to spend at church, I found church my refuge, and God my protector, my strength and my buffer against the world.

Priests and Nuns were to be honored, and it was through this reverence and respect that they would shepherd my journey toward God. Growing up, I was taught that Priests were the messengers of God and wanted only to guide us, to help us know, understand and follow God's will. I believed this, and I thought my life was near perfect until I met Father Gregory and experienced an emotional, spiritual and sexual awakening that I had never imagined existed.

From the gossip that followed him here, I knew that Father Gregory had experienced some troubles in his last parish and to quiet things down there, the Bishop had transferred him here, to Saint Ignatius. Despite being a Priest, Father Gregory was a very sensual man controlled by his lust, in fact, the current gossip about him carnally seducing some of the young girls and women in the parish. Quite disturbing, was one particularly virulent and persistent rumor that described Father Gregory as having "been with" different nuns, starting when he was a choir boy and continuing even after he was ordained. I could never get any real details, but it didn't matter, his prior troubles just made him that much more attractive, and despite our age difference there was an undeniable attraction between us, and I developed an achingly sad crush on him from the very beginning. I soon fancied myself in love, and it was through this association with him, I came to realize that there were deceptive and manipulative people within the Church, just as there were in secular life.

Had it not been for his family's influence and connections I am sure at some point his misdeeds, and lascivious behavior would have caught up with him sooner than it had. As it turned out, the Church was unable to continue whitewashing his indiscretions; within two years of our meeting, he would find himself excommunicated.

*****

I met Father Gregory two summers ago when he first came to our quiet community and parish. That summer I celebrated my eighteenth birthday and felt as if his presence spiritually rejuvenated me.

I'm not sure when the nature of our relationship began to change. I was aware of the way Father looked at me when he thought we were alone, and it made me feel uncomfortable and aroused at the same time. Perhaps it started with his touches, his fingers lightly brushing over my arm, the innocent pressure of his arm against my breast that progressed to him "accidentally" caressing my breasts, or coming up behind me pressing his penis against my ass. I didn't mind, in fact, I liked when he did things like that, it would give me a warm tingly feeling between my legs, an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation.

Our first sexual intimacy occurred late one afternoon during confession. It was very dim in the church when I walked into the confessional and took a seat. The Father entered, and I began, "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession."

"How have you sinned?" he queried.

There was one sin I knew I had to confess, but I found myself hesitating.

"How have you sinned?" he repeated.

Then, I'm not sure why, I blurted out, "Several times I have allowed my boyfriend to touch me inappropriately."

There was silence from the other side of the confessional.

"I thought it would be enough to satisfy him, but it wasn't. He tried to force me to let him do other things, but I ran away from him, and I haven't seen or talked to him since."

"You did the right thing my child, but you must ask God for his forgiveness. You must pray for guidance and strength so that you do not succumb to this type of temptation, but hold your vessel pure for God. Repent your sins and pray the prayer of contrition and God will forgive you as you seek spiritual enlightenment."

"Thank you, Father," I said in a barely audible voice but did not make any effort to leave.

"Is there something else troubling you my child?" Father Gregory asked.

"Yes. Yes, there is Father, but I don't know how to say it," I stuttered out, the embarrassment making my face hot.

"I am here for you Madison, please unburden your soul to me," he said solicitously.

"Fantasies, Father . . . I know it is wrong, but I have been having fantasies," I said abruptly.

There was a heavy, silent pause before he asked, "What kind of fantasies, Madison?"

I could feel my heart beating in my chest, and I took a deep breath, "being with you," I said.

In a quiet, controlled voice, Father Gregory said, "I don't understand, exactly what does that mean? Tell me."

"What does that mean Madison? Say it," he said impatiently.

"Oh Father, please don't make me say it out loud . . . please," I begged in a shaky voice.

Father Gregory said nothing, the air in the cubicle suddenly feeling oppressive and sexually charged.

"Are you still a virgin, Madison?"

"Yes Father, yes," I murmured.

"Have you let your boyfriend put his cock between your legs? He asked, have you weakened and let him pleasure you between your legs with his mouth?" Answer me truthfully Madison.

"Oh, no Father, never, I protested. That would be wrong, to let a man sully my body. Momma said a woman's body is a gift from God and not intended to be a receptacle for a man's lust. She said I should keep my body pure for God and for the man he chooses for me to marry and have babies with."

"Good, good," he said as if pleased with my response to his questions.

"Your Mother is right Madison; she has always walked in God's light and with his guidance. I know from talking and praying with you that she has taught you to follow God's teachings and direction without question," he said. "God has brought you and me together for a divine purpose Madison, and I trust you will let me reveal our Savior's plan to you."

"Yes Father, of course," I replied solemnly.

Bowing my head, I beseeched, "Father, help me to discover the strength to resist and overcome temptations now and in the future. Guide me to follow not my will, but God's. Help me to know and trust that my wants and needs are driven by God's divine instruction."

"Come here my child; come here where I can see you." I got up and exited my side of the enclosure; momentarily pausing I glanced about the pews and noticed that the church was empty except for someone in a rear row. I walked around to the other side of the confessional, took Father's outstretched hand, and allowed him to draw me inside. There in the cool dimness, I remember seeing the large Cornet ring on Father's finger as he slipped his hand under my skirt and between my thighs. I did not pull away but stood motionless as if his touching me there was the most natural thing in the world. Tentatively at first, Father Gregory let his hand brush across my clit before he eased his thumbs into the waistband of my white virginal panties and slowly, deliberately pulled them down.

I gasped in surprise and held my breath when he removed my panties; I said nothing, mesmerized by Father's calm and reassuring manner and by my all-encompassing desire to be a good and obedient servant of God.

Father parted his robe and positioned me on his lap so that the hard bulge of his now exposed penis pressed impatiently along the inner length of my thighs.

"Don't be afraid my child," Father Gregory said when he began to thrust his cock upward between my thighs. I could feel the warm flesh of his cock shaft working its way up and down and the hard tip of his cockhead rubbing over my swelling clit with each thrust.

I could feel a heat building between my legs and I turned and looked into Father Gregory's strong, handsome face. His eyes were closed, and his breathing had become raspy, almost labored. His hands encircled my waist as he held my lower body tight against his crotch and stroked between my thighs with his long, thick cock. The wave of heat began to undulate through my pussy making me gasp for air as Father Gregory began to thrust faster and harder until his body stiffened and with a deep groan, thick, white cum pulsed from his cock and pooled on my thighs.

I sat still, bewildered by what had happened. Not sure what to do, I finally attempted to rise but was held in place by Father's firm hold while he resumed a slow, thrusting until he became soft and the cum no longer leaked out. After taking a minute to regain his composure, Father stood, cleaned himself with my panties and stuffing his spent cock back into his pants adjusted his robes.

Looking at me with a still hungry expression on his face Father handed the cum stained panties to me.

"Now clean yourself so that you are presentable," he said, his hand lightly caressing my cheek.

"With a joyful obedient heart you have submitted to God's will and through me allowed him to anoint you with the physical manifestation of his spirit. In doing so, you have pleased our Savior."

Father Gregory blessed me saying, "Go with God my child," before he turned and left the confessional booth.

When I finished wiping Father's cum from between my legs, I tucked the soiled panties into my purse. I stood in the quiet darkness of the confessional recounting everything that had happened. I did not feel sad or embarrassed, but instead, very special because God had chosen me to be the physical repository and spiritual vessel for his blessings.

*****

I was torn. On the one hand, I was filled with the glory of knowing God, but on the other confused, excited and increasingly aroused by the carnal feelings that Father had awakened in me. I still saw Confession as being an important, integral part of my religious life and vital to my spiritual growth, but I was hesitant to be alone with Father Gregory for fear of what might happen and so for my next few confessions, I confessed to a different Priest.

Despite my half-hearted attempt to distance myself, when we were together I knew I was in the presence of God's Messenger. I could feel the spirit when he would sometimes touch my cheek and look into my eyes, or place his hand on the small of my back when we walked side by side, or lightly brush my bare arm if we were standing next to each other. Each time we met and talked, I was more convinced these new, strange feelings were a confirmation of our spiritual connection and closeness; I welcomed them.

One evening, after a particularly contentious day with a co-worker, I decided to go to church and take some time to contemplate my day at work and perhaps go to confession. It was close to 9:00 pm when I arrived and found the church lit with a glorious profusion of white votive candles. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I found a seat in the rear, closed my eyes and began to pray quietly for spiritual guidance and forgiveness for whatever earlier unchristian thoughts and actions I may have had during the day.

So absorbed was I in my prayers, I didn't hear Father Gregory approach. He came and sat next to me in the darkened rear of the church, and I gasped when I felt his hand on my thigh. I was surprised and embarrassed when he slipped his hand under my plaid skirt and into my panties. I tried to scoot away, but he put his other arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him.

"Don't be afraid, my child. God told me you were here. You must relax, surrender and let God take control," he murmured in a low, coaxing voice. Father leaned in and kissed me hard, his tongue probing, claiming my mouth. He finally broke his kiss, but his thumb remained inside my panties continuing to tease my clit, his fingers now easily moving in and out of my pussy. Father Gregory sensed I was on the brink of cumming when my body stiffened, and my breathing became ragged. He quickly covered my mouth with his, muffling my involuntary cry of pleasure just as I experienced my first male induced orgasm. We remained seated for a few minutes as he casually stroked the inside of my thigh and softly whispered in my ear, "God has chosen you for me, Madison. Thank you for listening as God spoke to you tonight, and for submitting to his will."

We rose, and as I turned to leave, Father Gregory took my arm and pulled me to him. I was so nervous I couldn't look at him or say anything. He leaned over to give me what I thought would be a peck on the cheek, but instead he tilted my head back and kissed me so soulfully I could feel an electric surge course downward through my core.

The church was empty except for the two of us, and I put my arms around his neck, returned the kiss, and again felt his hand caressing me between my legs as he pressed me back against the wall. Closing my eyes, I leaned back and allowed him to tear my panties away and again slip his fingers inside my pussy. Caught up in the emotions and sensations I opened my thighs to give him better access.

"Oh, Father, Father," I moaned, writhing as he expertly brought me to another orgasm.

When I had sufficiently recovered, he released me and on shaky legs, I pulled myself together and walked outside to my car. It wasn't until I got into the car did I realize I didn't have my panties on, and worse couldn't remember if he had picked them up off the floor where he had dropped them.

*****

After that night in the empty church, Father became even more attentive and whenever we were together continually talking about God and the importance of my obedience and submission to God's will. As far as Father Gregory was concerned, my salvation was dependent upon and could be demonstrated only through unquestioned emotional, spiritual and carnal compliance to his will. Despite the pious way Father spoke of God, he unrelenting in his efforts to calm my apprehension and convince me to open my legs to him.

I remember one night when Father Gregory summoned me to his office and immediately began to chastise me saying, "You are God's vessel, Maddie. Because you have been chosen, you must willingly and without guilt give yourself over to God and by extension to me, his messenger, and his servant." Setting his Bible aside and opening his long, dark robe Father Gregory revealed his nakedness beneath. His black curly bush of pubic hair covered his groin, his thick uncut cock hung long and menacing between his legs.

I stood in stunned silence as Father Gregory sat down in the large leather chair near the window.

"Come here my child, come here Madison, he said in a low, throaty voice. Taking my hand in his, he pulled me between his legs and pressed me to my knees. Listen to what God is telling you, rely only on his word for the truth and put your faith in that."

"Would you humble yourself and worship God through me, Madison?" Father asked.

Unknown to Father, I had prayed on this for a long time; prayed for direction and strength to overcome my contrariness to God's plan and had finally made the decision to stop resisting and to do his will. I trusted Father Gregory and knew that he only wanted to usher me closer to God, not to harm me. I looked up at him and searching his face, felt my heart soften, and the familiar warm, wet sensation begin to spread between my legs.

"Yes, Father . . . I willingly humble myself before you," I said, as my eyes began to brim with hot tears.

"Good, good my girl, he said encouragingly, as he gently caressed my cheek. Don't be afraid."

With his right hand, Father Gregory grasped his cock at its base and held it upright in front of me.

"Go ahead, Madison, show your love and devotion, he coaxed. Touch it, take it in your hand and caress it as if it were the body of Christ."

I knelt, transfixed by his words, mentally trying to reconcile his actions and words with the pious, holy man I knew he was.

"Suck me . . . yes, suck me," Father Gregory said, his hand now resting on the back of my head bringing it closer to his growing erection. Take me into your mouth, my child; allow me to cum in your mouth so that you can accept my blessing."

Father Gregory was already semi-hard with anticipation when he slipped his swollen purple cockhead between my lips and I tentatively began to suck, and at his instruction, I licked the clear, sticky fluid that seeped out of his pee hole. When my mouth enveloped the tip of his cock and moved downward, I felt my tongue stroke the large, pulsing vein on the underside of his cock just before he released a hot load of cum into my mouth. I attempted to pull back, but Father Gregory held my head in place and pushed his cock to the back of my throat. I could feel him sliding his cock into the warm tightness of my throat, forcing me to take him until he was rigid again. Each time I looked up at him, his cock would jerk forcefully, and his balls strain with the renewed urge to ejaculate. He began to moan and say, "Thank you, God. Thank you, Lord," as he slowly used my mouth to milk his cock of its holy essence.

With his eyes closed, and absently smoothing my damp hair back away from my face, he remained in my mouth while his cock softened. I stayed kneeling between his legs, as he gathered his robes about me.

"Yes, my child . . . God is pleased. . . I am pleased. You did well," he said, his salaciousness overshadowing the holy words as he slowly humped my mouth, gradually becoming hard again.

*****

I would only go to Father Gregory to hear my confessions. After entering the confessional and making the sign of the cross, in a deep, authoritative voice, Father Gregory would always start the sessions the same way . . . except for one evening when I entered and knelt in confession. Father Gregory came into my side of the Confessional, kneeling beside me, covered my hands with his larger one, and said, "Close your eyes Madison and focus on hearing God, listen to him and allow God to enter you with his holy spirit." I had grown up in the church and wanted desperately to feel God's spirit within me, and as I prayed, Father also began to pray, and I was mesmerized by the calm, commanding strength in his words.