The screen creaked as Father Richard shifted, and Hera imagined his hand adjusting his growing erection.
Her confessions poured out faster now, dirtier, her voice dropping to a filthy whisper. "But that's not all, Father. I dream of you bending me over the altar. You hike up my skirt, tear my panties aside, and ram your d**k into my dripping cunt from behind. I grip the edges, my ass high in the air, as you pound me mercilessly. Your hips slap against my cheeks, your balls smacking my c**t with every brutal thrust."
She rocked on her knees, grinding her soaked p***y against her heel for friction. "You call me your slut, your confessional w***e, spanking my ass red while you stretch my hole. I beg for more, Father—f**k your parishioner harder, make me your breeding b***h. You pull my hair
