Blasphemy Makes My Pussy Wet: My interest in Blasphemy started many years ago. I was in those formative teen years when I had a taste of the dark side. Growing up I was not religious, but I went every Sunday to church with a friend. Her family is Catholic, so for those years, I was Catholic as well. I have a little secret. I only went to church for the donuts and the donations. Don’t tell anyone, but when the donation basket came around, I took some. I was young and didn’t realize they weren’t handing out money. I would take enough to get me some candy after service. That progressed to large amounts for movies and shopping. This was my downfall, and I guess, my devotion to Satan.

One Christmas eve I learned a valuable lesson. I learned that a Priest was only human when it came to the sins of the flesh. I sat in the back of the church, the whole place worshiping that fake doll in the basket. It was supposed to represent Jesus. All I saw was a doll that someone forgot to dust.  Also, it was a cheap display for a very rich church. I know they have money because I picked up a copy of their financial statement for the year. Those people are not living like paupers. Do you ever look closely at things when you’re bored? I have a bad habit of letting my mind wander.

The Priest was pretty young in this congregation. Not bad looking either. I would date him, or at least fuck him. Most are old, but the church is trying to recruit younger parishioners, so they brought in a twenty-seven-year-old man of God. I will admit that my pussy was wet the first time I met him. Tonight though, all I can think about is him handing me my communion on the tip of his dick. As the service went forth, so did my imagination.

“May the Body of our Lord Jesus Christ preserve your soul unto life everlasting. Amen.”

Down on my knees, looking up at the young Priest, my mouth opens without effort. It’s not the bread that I see, but his massive cock sliding out from under the robe. I wonder for a moment if anyone else is noticing this, but everyone waits with closed eyes, and prayers on their lips.  Meanwhile, the man, this holy man, places the bread on the thick bulbous head of his cock and tells me to accept the body of Christ. I salivate at the thought. Suddenly, I am starved to be fed. Not the bread, but his cock. A born cocksucker, I can honestly say I have never wanted to suck off a Priest till now. The joy of oral sex is something I have always loved.

Closing my eyes, the lord’s prayer comes to mind. I am not religious, remember that. For some unknown reason, I feel spiritual for the first time. Stretching my tongue from my mouth, I feel as though I am a serpent and he is my prey. Licking up the shaft of his fully-erect cock, I leave the bread on the head. I’m not ready to devour the body of Christ. Not yet at least. Long lavish strokes around his dick, the bread is bubbling up with pre-cum. The slit of his dick seems to have a life of its own and it gurgling with pending satisfaction.

An evil that I have never known comes over me. I want that in my throat, but I want him to sin so deeply he never recovers. With lust in my eyes and the soul of Mary Magdalene inside, I push my head down on his massive holy cock, taking him till the bread is forcing down my throat.  My hair suddenly in his fist, he is soon grunting as he pounds his dick down my gulping throat. No one is paying attention as this blasphemous Priest force fucks my throat on this Christmas eve service.

“I baptize you in the name of the Father, Son, and the holy ghost.”

The Priest pulls my head back, spraying my face with his searing hot cum. So hot that it streaks my face with scalding sin. No one is looking. None of these people notice that I’ve been the victim of a Blasphemy facial by the local man of God. With the sash on his robe, he wipes my face clean, looking down at my face.

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