I knew what I would find in this mountain town: Chastity.
We met a year ago.
Her confession was one I’d never forget.
She wanted things I told myself I would never, ever have again.
Skin on skin, bodies entwined, the forbidden fruit.
Her desire is my goddamn prayer.
My story is a dark and dirty one.
I became a priest to outrun my past.
Chastity’s an angel and I don’t want to ruin her.
But I need to.
Forgive me, Father, for I will sin.
I confess this is filthy… but still oh, so sweet.
This smutty story is sure to have you on your knees, sayin’ a prayer.
Sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission!
XO, FrankieBooks by Author:Frankie Love Books
As the bus pulls into this sleepy mountain town in the southwestern part of Montana, a flood of memories surface.
Some good ones, sure, but a hell of a lot of bad ones, too.
"Father," the driver says to me. "This is your stop."
Gritting my teeth, I reach overhead and grab my rucksack. "Blessings to you," I tell her as I get off the bus, my hand on my priest"s collar, wanting to take it off. Knowing once I step foot in this town, I may never have the right to put it back on.
Stepping onto the land I"ve avoided for a decade, grounds me to the reality of the situation. I may be a priest, but hell, when I come back to a place like this I feel like a twenty-year-old kid again, back when I was praying to a god I didn"t believe in; hoping for an answer to my solitary prayer. I needed a way out.
The answer came in the form of the church, and while I didn"t know any Bible verses then, I learned them soon enough. The priesthood was my way out of this hellhole where I"d grown up, and Father Sebastian saw something in me. Something I couldn"t see myself.
My family was dirty; filthy, fucking dirty, and I wasn"t looking to end up in flames like all of them. All these years later, they haven"t changed one damn bit.
Me" Part of me likes to believe I"ve been forgiven for the shit I did, but I know I"m not clean by any means.
It wouldn"t take long God to find out the truth if he looked in my heart.
I didn"t come back home to reconcile with my past.
I came for a reason that is much more depraved than that.
I want what I shouldn"t.
Crave what isn"t mine to take.
But damnit, I"m here anyway.
From the bus stop, I walk down the street to the pawn shop. I pause before going inside. I know that once I enter those doors, there is no going back.
I know who is inside that shop, behind the register. I can just picture her standing there. With her long blonde hair, cherry red lips, eyes so blue I could drown in them. Young and innocent, and so pure she makes the world around us look dirty. Makes me feel dirty too.
I"m her uncle and a priest. And I should be walking away. Instead, I"m pushing open the doors, her handwritten words in the letters she"s been sending, so heavy on my heart.
I need you.
I"m so alone.
I"d write back, a firm grip on my pen, blood rushing to my cock under my priestly garments. Her words were so wrong, but they felt so, so right. Still, I am a man of God before all else.
I"m not your Daddy. I"m only Father Cruz.
She"d reply, her penmanship curly, the ink pink, my length growing hard as I read her words.
No. You are my Daddy. And I need you to come tuck me into bed.
Trouble. That"s what she is, or what she was. She"s also lost. She needs a way out as badly as I did all those years ago.
Father Sebastian"s final word echo in my ear. He"d said them last month as he lay on his deathbed.
God calls us to take care of all the children, that includes Chastity. It"s not wrong to make sure she is safe.
If only he knew what I"d really wanted with Chastity. Her virginal cunt against my cock, craving what I"ve sworn off.
Hungry for more than loaves and fishes. I want her. Her. Only her.
I push open the door to the pawn shop my brother Trevor owns. Bells jingle, announcing my arrival, bringing me back to the present. Grounding me in the here and now.
Her head pops up from behind the counter.
"Daddy," she whispers, but still, I can hear her.
God, help me.
Her clear blue eyes are filled with surprise as I walk toward her.
"You came," she says, her hand moving to her mouth. She traces her finger over her ripe lips, and I want to crash my mouth against hers, pull her over the glass counter and push up her little plaid skirt. I want to spread her knees and drag her virginal body to the depths of Hell because that is the only place I"m going.
"Chastity, you look"" It"s the wrong thing to say, to focus on. It will give her ideas I intend to remove from her mind, not fill it with.
But my eyes are greedy, and they rake over her body. It"s been nearly a year since I"ve seen her. Since she came to the city with her mother and new stepdad, my brother. They aren"t church-going types, but they came anyway, to see me.
She said too much during confession.
Touched too much. My eyes flash to the memory of her pink pussy, her finger tracing her delicate folds. I told her to go, but damn, I wanted her to stay.