.

.

.

He looked like he was fighting the final battle inside himself.

“Angela…” he rasped, voice thick with lust.

“If I take this off… there’s no going back.”

"Take it off, Father" I whispered slowly

He pulled the belt open.

The cassock started to slip from his shoulders.

.....

Father Maxwell’s cassock hit the floor.

His body was even better than I imagined — broad, muscular chest, strong arms, and a thick, heavy cock that sprang up hard and throbbing against his stomach.

Damn! He was not wearing any shorts underneath.

The head was already leaking precum.

He looked at me with pure, raw hunger.

“No more talking,”...