I live here, on the grounds of this grand old church. A beautiful relic of architecture to some, but for me, it’s the house of God. And within this house lay many emotions: those of love and gratitude, but also those of man’s oh-so-natural carnal desires and lust.

As I finished my duties for the day—lighting the candles, making sure the altar is prepared and set for all parishioners, collecting offerings, carrying the processional cross, just to name a few. By the end of my day, I am always certain that I have served as any and every altar boy should. Any and every good one at least.

As I end my day and make my way to my quarters, I begin to disrobe. Now in my everyday wear, I begin to pray. As I do so, Father Barrett makes his way in, still collared and very much in uniform. He has held mass for our parishioners, listened to countless confessions, and spread the word of our Lord and the Holy Mother.

But as he enters my quarters, it’s time for him to spread something else.

I can’t help it, even as I heard his footsteps approaching my door, coming to laud me for my performance today, (or possibly chide in case of a misstep), my member became alive at the mere thought of him being in close proximity to me. I could never help myself, even when I first started. Whenever Father Barrett was around, the blood would rush almost instantly from my head, to my loins even as I continued to say my prayers.

He came in and approached me from behind, embracing me as he kissed my neck. Without having to say a word, he let me know that I did well in my duties today. His lips eventually made their way to mine. I couldn’t help myself and a moan escaped my body. His touch was too much for me.

Slowly, my clothing slipped off, and he grabbed my now fully erect cock into his hand as he continued to embrace and kiss me. My prayers still in my thoughts, swirling around the thoughts of the holiest of men, this pillar of my faith, letting his hands roam my body as if to search for piety in every bit of my flesh.

Father Barrett had long made it known that his love for me, both emotional and especially physical, was the touch of God himself. These kisses, these embraces, were holy.

Now down to just my undergarments, I attempted to keep my prayers at the fore, even as Father Barrett found his way to my other doorway. Even as his tongue invaded my body through this doorway, I made sure to continue to pray, as this was my communion; my glory from God, making its way inside me in ways that most people could only dream of.

Father Barrett’s tongue reamed my insides, slobbering in and out of it. His hands still roamed the rest of my bare body as he continued to unlock my lower door with his tongue, this tongue that had been reciting the scripture to the people all day, now granting me a glance into heaven itself.

Suddenly, Father Barrett maneuvered my now entirely bare body over and laid me down on my back. He took me into his mouth. He swallowed my fully engorged, throbbing meat whole, sliding it in and out of his mouth, letting the length of me down his throat and back out again. My body couldn’t help but twist and writhe at this most holiest of commandments,a congratulatory ode if there ever was one.

Father Barrett was moaning into my chute as well, with each punch of his tongue inside me, I could feel the vibrato of his voice. My stroking increased in pace, my knuckles brushing against his nose with each pump. It was all too much; I blew my load all over my stomach, Father Barrett still moaning himself. I hadn’t even noticed that he had unzipped his own pants and had been stroking himself.

He ran his hand up my body, and back down to my now spent and deflated cock. He looked me dead in the eye, praising me without saying a word.