Since the beginning of time, the fight between good and evil has been prevalent in the Catholic church. Most of it swept under the rug, well, until recent years. With the uncovering of molestations, the entire religion took a brutal hit from the believers and the non-believers—most of them taking a step back until the world moved on to its next conflict.

The Catholic church is now under investigation for the sexual contact between Priests and young male parishioners. At Sacred Heart, that is only the tip of the iceberg where the abuse begins and ends. Gypsy knew the moment she walked into the small chapel where the Nuns prayed that she was in for the fight of her life. Someone opened the doors for the Devil and offered up a soul to take. A young Nun in exchange for a large amount of cash. What is one life when you have twenty more waiting to take her place? 

As she entered the small foyer, the first thing Gypsy noticed was the strong scent of smoke. Not incense, but cigar smoke. It was pungent and burned her nose the moment she shut the oversized wooden door. There is no smoking allowed on the church grounds, and this was a place not accessible to anyone but the church staff. Heaven forbid, a Priest was not polluting himself with something as vile as smoking a cigar. 

I knew something Sinful was coming my way.

“Hello?” she called out. The doors to the main chapel opened only a crack. “You can’t smoke in here? It’s a church,” Gypsy added. As she stood frozen in place, the sound of a male clearing his throat came from the other side of the door. There was someone in there. 

“Come in here, Sister,” the voice called out. 

Gypsy stood for a moment. She knew the moment she opened the door, she would come face to face with the evilest being. Were the bowels of hell on the other side of the door and the scent she smelled flesh burning from the souls he stole? Or had someone made their way off the streets and ended up in the chapel. Was the voice the fear that she felt rushing through her veins, or was the male a temptation she could never resist? To be lured to the other side of the wall is a test of faith and willpower. At 19, Gypsy was weak in both areas. 

“Sister, you will do as I say,” he called out again. A soft tap of fingertips on the polished wood inside the chapel echoed out into the front of the building. The man is losing patience, and though unknown to the young Nun, that is the last thing she wants to happen. An idle mind is the Devil’s playground, and though this man lives on the topside of the earth, his connections to hell run deep. 

Gypsy slowly advanced, the tips of her fingers tapping the doorknob. It’s something you do when you fear fire on the other side of the wall. Noticing it was cool, she slipped inside the room, not bothering to open the door any farther. Her petite frame allowed her to glide in without effort. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the change in light, but when they did, she noticed the man sitting at the front of the church, a billow of smoke rising from his lips.

He sat there like a King without a crown. 

“You can’t smoke in here. The Mother Superior strictly forbids anyone other than members of the church in the portion of the grounds. I can show you to the other church if you wish,” she spoke in a meek voice. 

A loud burst of laughter radiated from the front of the church as the male ashed his cigar on the carpet of the old building. His eyes never diverted from the young Nun who graced him with her presence. He knew she was attractive, but this girl had the face of an angel, and he was sure that under that bullshit the church forced her to wear, she was exquisite. He could almost taste the honey that poured from her core. 

“I can assure you that your Mother Superior has no reason to punish me for smoking here. She’s busy sucking the dick of the Bishop right now, so let’s leave her be, okay?” said the male. As he lifted his cigar to his lips again, she noticed the ring on his finger. Unable to make it out, Gypsy knew that was something special. Maybe this man was not the Devil after all, but then again, was he a wolf in sheep’s clothing? “Come forward and pray for me, sister. I am a sinner, and you need to ask God to forgive me for my indiscretions,” he laughed. Snapping his fingers to get her attention, he pointed to the ground in front of him when he had it. 

“Down on your knees. You will take communion from me today,” he smirked.

Gypsy shook her head back and forth, her knees trembling as she advanced, “Please don’t ask this of me. I can’t do this.” 

Sitting up, he pulled his zipper down, removing his flaccid cock from his pants, “Get on your fucking knees before I rip the back of your throat out with the head of my dick!”

Tears pouring down her cheeks, Gypsy advanced to kneel between the legs of the man, her eyes on his cock. She knew that he intended to hurt her, and she feared the pain that came from within his soul. As Gypsy wrapped her hand tight with the rosary, the young Nun moved in, her tongue slithering up the thick underbelly of his massive member. If he was this large at a soft stage, she knew when his erection raged on that she would taste blood in her mouth. Nothing about this man hinted at being loving and sensual. 

Using the hand that held the cigar, he wrapped his hand in the back of her veil. He slowly pushed her mouth down on his dick, not stopping until her warm oral cavity fully engulfed the semi-hard member. A soft growl and his hips pushed up to force the young Nun to whimper for air. “Suck my cock, you fucking whore. Suck my dick for Jesus,” he laughed, Releasing his hand only to ash the cigar in the middle of her back. His hand quickly went back to the veil she wore, holding it tight as his balls smacked her chin. 

Sinful desires make for a ravishing Sunday.

Gargles of saliva in her throat, Gypsy felt the tears pouring down her cheeks. She was gagging and choking when his cock reached the full erection, suddenly tasting the copper as it poured down her throat. He had no mercy on the young girl. As her nostrils flared, she fought for each breath she took, not knowing if that would be her last. 

Grunting with every thrust, the male pulled back, leaning down to spit on her saliva-covered face. “In the name of God, forgive this little fucking slut for taking the seed of someone other than her husband,” he growled, pushing her head back down in his dick. Three more thrusts and the cum spilled from the head of his dick, ropes of heat flooding her throat. He would not stop until his balls once again sagged with relief. 

Pouring from her mouth and nose, the semen of from man stained Gypsy with unbearable heat. Falling back, the young Nun lay on the chapel floor, her eyes fixed at dilated on the stained glass of the ceiling. 

The male stood and pushed his cock back into the confines of his tailored slack. As he hovered over the young Nun, he pinched the cigar to collect up some of the ash with one finger. Leaning down, he placed the cross on her head with the soot, smirking, “I’ll make my donation on the way out. It was a good prayer session, Sister.”

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A Sunday Sin can be nothing but the perfect fantasy. I wrote this story to share a few of my taboo desires.

Alone in her room, Gypsy laid there watching the ceiling. Should she call her family and ask if this is okay, or should she allow it to continue and accept it as God’s will? As her eyes closed, the Devil snuck into the room to show the innocent young Nun the pleasures of his playground. One can’t control a dream. Satan always holds the upper hand in the subconscious world. 

Slowly the sheet pulled from the cot, exposing her small frame. As she stretches out, unaware that her dreams were about to be hijacked, and the Devil himself was driving the bus. She moans as she felt the hand creep from her ankle to her inner thigh, his nails leaving a faint line on her flawless flesh. 

Sunday Sin will drive you wild.

Inhaling deep, his back arched as his nose followed his hands.  Tonight though, all the Devil wanted was to sedate his growing thirst. The well between her legs would supply him with his nightly nocturnal nourishment. He parted her legs, careful not to wake the girl. The first shock of the evening was that there were no panties to remove. Her soft pussy hair covered in a dew of her sins.

The scent alone letting him know that she pleasured herself tonight. A slight adjustment in weight on the bed, and his nose buried in the small puff of hair above her pussy. Inhaling deep, he took in not just the scent of pussy perfume but also the smell of innocence. Below those pristine lips laid the perfect seal that held out all the destructive elements of the world. 

As she rolled slightly, her leg dropped to the side. She exposed herself more without knowing it or did her subconscious tell her to do that. Maybe the will of the Devil parted the rivers to the hidden treasure. 

He never spoke. There is no need to talk during dinner. As his tongue started at the asshole, he licked up the outer labia, drawing an imaginary line up to the clitoral hood. He made sure not to break contact with the skin. His tongue moved back down in a half-circle, pushing his way up the other side to complete the circle. The taste was bursting tiny bubbles on his tongue.

The Devil in the presence of not only a Nun but a virgin is almost toxic. Her pussy tastes like the combination of spun sugar and fresh honey straight from the hive. Thick, creamy, and addictive. The dream lover took his time with the small Nun. His craving reached the starvation point when he took the first swipe up the middle, parting her lips with the tip. If this is what heaven tastes like, he will relinquish the throne. 

Keep reading, to the explosive ending.

“Mmm, no, our father who art,” Gypsy mumbled. She was praying in her sleep, but for what? Did she pray for the nocturnal dream to continue or for it to end? The juices that trickled from her sweet pussy answered what she could not speak. 

“Oh, sister, I am not done with you. I will never finish with you,” he growled. Around in circles, the spike of his tongue toured her virginity. Oh, to be the one to take that, he would give up his immortal life to shove his cock in there, splatter it with cherry juice, and listen to the opera screams. Slithering around, he would not let her cum with his tongue inside of her sweet hole. No, a little lower was the goal. A hand on either side of her ass cheek, he spread open that tiny door, pushing his tongue inside of her asshole. The tight rim is holding him in a strangulation hold as she pumped her hips in the air. For being a virgin, she will become a prime panial queen.

One that begged for her cunt taped shut and her asshole destroyed by a multitude of massive cocks.

She cried out, her pleasure building as the sleeping sister knotted her slender fingers in the sheets of the cot—perspiration building on her brow. The moment the lust of the Devil consumed Gypsy, she screamed out in waves of pleasure. “Oh god, please,” she wailed. Her voice echoed through the small room as the dream escape pulled her into the chambers of the Devil for the very first time. 

Smirking, the being from her growing nightmares collecting his due, he drank every drop of the sweet cream that poured freely from her cunt. It was then that he knew the man who took this girl would unleash a wanton slave to the cock.

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