Father Nicolo Di Pietro relishes his role as a small parish priest, until he meets a mysterious stranger who has plans for his body -- and his soul.
This 3000-word story contains graphic descriptions of m/m oral and anal sex. For adults only.
Excerpt: The man smiled again. The twist of his lips was strangely sensual, and quite against his will, the cleric’s heart beat faster. “I know who you are, priest. We must talk, you and I.”
Father Nico pretended not to understand him. “I hear confessions before mass,” he said, trying to ignore his racing pulse. “The Sacrament of Reconciliation is intended to cleanse the soul and prepare it for the Holy Eucharist. Receiving communion unworthily is a very grave sin.”
The stranger took a step closer. “I am a sinner, Nicolo.” His voice caressed the words in a way that was both confession and celebration, admission and invitation. The priest’s cock twitched and began to harden, and he felt faintly dizzy.
“Who *are* you?”
“I am called Sergei.” He laid a hand on Father Nico’s arm, and even though the touch was light and his vestments were heavy, the priest felt electricity jolt through his system at the contact. “Come, let us go somewhere … warmer.”
Father Nico’s cock was fully erect now, the other man’s presence burning in his veins. Sergei’s eyes, so dark and compelling, locked on his, and he heard himself say, “We can—talk—in the rectory.”
They walked in silence, the night sharp and still. Father Di Pietro had never been more acutely sensitive to everything around him: the frigid air snapping at his ears and nose; the tiny pinpoints of light in the sky overhead; the echo of their footsteps as they crossed the parking lot; and most especially his own unwilling arousal, and the man who kept pace beside him.
The rectory was dark, save for a single light over the stove. Father Nico started toward the floor lamp in the corner of his small living room; then Sergei laid a hand on the back of his neck, and he went still.
“Let us keep the lights dim for the time being; artificial illumination can be so … unpleasant.”
The priest swallowed. “All right.” He turned toward the kitchen, uncertain. “Would you like something? A cup of tea?”
He heard the amusement in the other man’s voice. “I want many things, priest. But I do not think you have my beverage of choice just yet.”
“What—” Father Nico shook his head. It felt as though he were swimming underwater, trying to describe something that lay on a distant shore, out of sight. If he pushed hard enough, he might break through to the surface, and see; but he sensed that seeing would be more than he could endure. He was better off staying underwater, even if he drowned.
He felt Sergei come up close behind him, almost pressing against him. “Tell me, priest.” The other man’s voice was like velvet against his skin. “Have you ever given your body?” He rubbed a thumb up and down Father Nico’s carotid artery. “Or your blood?”
“I—” His heart was hammering in his chest, and his erection, which had started to subside, sprang up again. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you?” Sergei said, and brushed his lips where his thumb had been. Before Father Nico could speak, he was whirled around and pressed against the wall, and the other man was kissing him. His body and mind at war, the priest tried to break free, but Sergei held him easily. Through the fog of his panic and desire, the cleric found a moment to wonder how such a slender man could be so strong. Then his thoughts dissipated like mist as Sergei’s tongue thrust into his mouth.
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