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Sins Of The Flesh (Grendel Butler)


Sins Of The Flesh by Grendel Butler

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    • Average 4.0 from 4 ratings

Appointed as chaplain to a convent, Father John thought his dreams had come true. There was no denying his desire for women, and hearing the confessions of the nuns, their sinful, lustful thoughts, was sure to stimulate his already over-active imagination.

But was it only his imagination that suggested these were not normal nuns and that there was more on offer than the mild titillation of hearing the nuns confess their carnal thoughts? It seemed there was far more going on at the convent than anyone could have imagined, and that the wealth and comfort they enjoyed was derived from an entirely different source, one that involved providing specialist services to the very rich. Soon, Father John was to find himself in a world where young women were suffering extremes of pain and bondage, a world where even his hidden desires were stretched to the limits, and a world from which it seemed impossible to escape.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Strict Publishing Intl.    Published: 6 / 2011

No. words: 70700

Style: Sex Slavery / Training, Dark Secrets BDSM/Bondage

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Excerpt

The zip ripped down. He scrabbled at his belt. His trousers fell. She was bobbing her nipples in front of him, up and down, showing him how taut, and elastic her breasts were. He lunged at them with his hungry mouth, threw his arms round her, tangled his ankles in his trousers and they both tumbled onto the bed.

She laughed for sheer pleasure, her long nipples bouncing within reach of his lips. They clasped one of the delicious buds and sucked. He managed to kick off his trousers and she pushed down his pants while he slobbered all over her glorious breasts. He bit on a hard nipple; she squealed and giggled again. He searched for the other, bit harder, and she squealed louder.

“Come on, John! Fuck me!” she breathed into his ear, her fingers scrabbling at his shirt buttons. “Fuck-fuck-fuck!”

He had feared he would never live to enjoy this day. She was on top of him. He could feel her breasts, her hard nipples, her pubic bush brushing against him like gossamer, exciting him, and her mouth urgently searched his. His fears fled. His hand reached down to her crotch and he felt her warm honey ooze between his fingers.

“Fuck it! Fuck it!” she panted into his ear, over and over again as though she could not say it enough. Delicate fingers fluttered up and down his shaft until he felt it would explode; they teased gently and elusively. He almost swooned with ecstasy.

“Come on, darling! Stretch my cunt! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

His cock swam in her. The pleasure was indescribable. There was nothing more wonderful in the world and no woman more wonderful than Ruth.

Ruth suppressed a sigh as she slid herself over his prick. At least he was well hung and he could maintain a hard erection, which was more than you could say of some men. She had trapped him as she could trap any man, and none easier than a sexually frustrated priest who thought fortune had smiled on him with no cost attached.

At first, she had feared he would prove hard work. His vocational disillusionment would tame him – a priest who masturbated in the confessional while he listened to nuns rehearse their erotic lusts would be a useful recruit. However, the seal of the confessional might not hold him in check. He was greedy, but money and luxury would not muzzle him; he might belatedly rediscover his conscience. So, Imogen had decided they needed a honey trap too. Ruth knew the priest fancied her, so she used her wiles enmesh him until they sunk him so deep into their wishing well of fantasies that there was no climbing out, even if his ardour cooled or the relict of his conscience kicked in.

Yet, even as she worked her tight slippery hole up and down his impressive shaft, she felt a pang of guilt. He was an attractive man, once out of the dog collar and the shapeless black suit. He was clean too. There was no odour of stale underpants and sweat, so typical of the clergy – and she had fucked priests, vicars, and even an archdeacon. They had all exuded that stale, musty clerical smell. But this one seemed to be a man who had taken a wrong turning, who should never have been a priest at all. He was nice too, despite his desire to spank and whip. That was merely a product of his sexual frustration, and something she was sure he had never done. He would enjoy bare bottoms and spanking – so many men did, especially when the lust was on them – but he was nice for all that.

She wondered how he would respond to the true purpose of his being here. It worried her, because she liked him – nowhere near as much as she pretended to – but she liked him all the same, if only for his innocence. Even when she had thrown her knickers at him, he had not known what to do. He was so shy, unable to take the lead and dominate a woman who was apparently gagging for him.

She slid her herself further over his stiffness and drove her clit into his pubic hair, working it back and forth to bring it up. He had not even been able to do that! He would learn while he shrugged off his innocence like an old skin. Meanwhile, she set about arousing herself to an orgasm. She could simulate one, and he would not know the difference, bless him. He was on the point of cumming, yet there was no urgency about him. Her breath shortened as she stimulated herself. Her juices were flowing fast, and little sparks of pleasure prickled all over her. He had a magnificent cock – she had rarely felt so full – but it lacked the urgency and command that would really bring her off. He just lay there with a smile of angelic bliss on his face.

“Come on, John,” she urged him. “Fuck me! Hard! Shag me! Stretch my cunt! Use me! Hurt me! Come on!”

He started jerking tentatively. His embrace tightened, and she could feel his mounting excitement as jerks became thrusts. With a sigh, he rolled on her. His weight felt good, his increasingly urgent thrusts were better, faster, deeper, stretching her, stabbing right up into her, impaling her. Fuck, he was huge! He forced his way up into her cervix like a battering ram. Heat washed over her; she cried out.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Then he was gone, spent. With one last ripping thrust, his cock soared like a cruise missile and exploded deep inside her. He flopped, beside her, panting. The angelic smile suffused his face again.

“God, that was wonderful!” he gasped, and turned to her, unsure one more. “Wasn’t it?”

The insecurity of his question and the affection it implied made her want to laugh and weep. Most of all, it touched her guilty nerve again.

“Yes, sweetie, it was wonderful.” So it had been, for a brief thirty seconds at the end. He would improve under tuition. With his big prick and a little technique, he would become a decent shag.

“Let’s do it again?” she whispered in his ear, as he clumsily felt her breasts. “You’re working me up, darling, touching my titties.”

“You like that?” he asked, looking proud of himself.

“Of course.” She kissed his ear. “I like anything you do to me. Come on! Do it again!”

“I don’t know if I can,” he grimaced.

“Of course you can.”

She reached down and stroked his limp, wet member.

“Like me to suck it back into shape?”

“It’s a bit messy now.”

A gentleman too! She kissed his ear and stroked his hair. “Doesn’t matter,” she crooned, crawling back on top of him. “Anything that gives you pleasure. Absolutely anything.”

His hands stole towards her bottom and stroked it.

She giggled. “Like my bottom, do you, John?”

“Mmmmm. It’s wonderful.”

“But it doesn’t deserve to be caressed, does it, darling?”

His eyes popped. “Doesn’t it?”

“No. It’s a very naughty bottom.”

“Is it?” he laughed, and the light in his eyes told her he wanted to spank her, but he was unsure.

“A very naughty, wicked bottom.”

“Mmmmm.” He was bubbling now. “I like wicked bottoms.” He gave it a playful slap. She straddled him and slid her wet crack up and down the length of his resurgent cock.

“Such a sinful bottom, John. It should be taken in hand and spanked for its naughtiness, like Angela’s was.”

“Mmmmm.”

“I think you’d better put it across your knee.”

His eyes kindled. “Do you?”

“Yes, darling. It needs all the wickedness spanked out of it.”

He was aroused now, his cock like a pillar of hot stone. He stirred and sat up. She lowered herself contritely over his knee, rocking her bottom back and forth, brushing his thighs with her pubic bush to excite him further. He gripped her tightly; she felt the heat of his lust, and her bottom began to feel vulnerable. She liked that.

“Oh sir. Are you going to spank it terribly hard, sir?”

He could not contain himself now. Her cheeks smarted as his hand fell firmly and steadily. “One. Two. Three. Four.”

“Much harder, please, sir! Much, much harder. I’ve been such a wicked girl, sir.”

She wiggled her warming bottom cheeks to stimulate him more as the slaps became harder, and she felt the glow of pleasure course through her. She loved this.

“Ooh! Take your trouser belt to it. Please strap it hard, sir!”

His hand stopped. “Strap it?”

“Please, sir. Send your wicked girl for the strap. She deserves it.”

He released her and she rose from him, noticing his hesitation. That too would soon go, once he knew what he could get away with here. He had come on rapidly in the past twenty minutes. He was a sexual ingénue, but when he found his confidence he would be fine. She got up and stood beside the bed, her head and her arms hanging limply.

“Please, sir. Must I go and fetch the strap, sir?”

He licked his lips. “Perhaps you ought,” he said with a soppy grin.

God, he was such a gent! How much prodding did he need? “Please, sir,” she said in a small tearful voice. “Your wicked girl must be punished for her own good. Are you really going to send her for it?”

He grinned. “Very well. Fetch it!” he said, trying to sound harsh and commanding, but failing so miserably she almost laughed.

She hung her head. “Yes sir.”

With calculated, reluctant steps, she found his trousers on the floor, and drew the leather belt out of the loops. It was heavy, old, and extremely supple. All the better for the work it was about to do. She hugged it to herself, kissed it, and placed it in his hot trembling hand.


Reviews

lots of talk about strong bdsm but no real scene 2 out of 5

If you like naughty going ons in convents this is for you. 4 out of 5

The naughty-nuns novel to end all naughty-nuns novels. Wonderful wickedness. Loved it. 5 out of 5 (Bookworm)

People do wonder what some nuns and priests get up to... 5 out of 5 (Len)

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Publishers of erotic and mainstream literature.


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