Free Forbidden Reading by Lisette Ashton Page B

repulsed and aroused in the same moment – Christ and the Madonna continued to glare down at Justine on the altar. Uneasily, she realised her shame and excitement had blended into one seamless response.
    ‘Continue blessing the church,’ the priest decided.
    He pushed the bishop aside and placed himself between Justine’s legs. His erection, familiar to her now, already protruded from the folds of his cassock. Justine tried to squirm away as he pushed himself toward her but it was a half-hearted attempt at modesty and she didn’t try to make it look convincing. Her eagerness to experience more had reached a new level. Even though she felt degraded to have the priest’s entry lubricated by the bishop’s semen, the desire to have her anus filled was a greater driving force.
    His hands went to her thighs and he held her legs apart as he pushed into her.
    She gasped happily with delight.
    His thick shaft was gloriously wide inside her anus and filled her with a far more satisfying presence than the bishop had managed. The swollen head of his glans felt much too large for her tight confines and she couldn’t imagine accommodating anything larger. But he rode her with patient vigour and slid easily in and out of her aching hole. His hands gripped loosely against her thighs, clutching the sensitive flesh and holding her in the position he desired, and he made each forward thrust fill her with his entire length.
    This time Justine found the experience more satisfying.
    The statues continued to look down on her and, while she could still see disapproval in their stony faces, she no longer found that hampered her ability to enjoy the moment. The priest cursed her with a now familiar vitriol. He emphasised every harsh invective and sprayed her face with accidental droplets of spittle. As he slipped his length back and forth the waves of pleasure flowed through her with furious force.
    Voices beyond her range of vision threatened to interrupt the moment but the priest’s thrusting quickly tore her attention back to the pleasure between her legs. He reached for her jaw with one hand, held her face so she was forced to stare into his eyes, and muttered something in an indecipherable grunt. Without understanding the words, Justine knew she had been told to ignore distractions and concentrate only on what he was doing for her.
    He quickened his pace, hammering into her backside with a force that made her sick with delight. Tremors had begun to pulsate along his shaft and the prospect of his climax was infuriatingly imminent. Justine gritted her teeth, desperate to come again before the priest was spent. Now that she had found the ability to accept the religious paraphernalia around her, the need for orgasm struck her with punishing force. Tensing the muscles of her anus around the priest’s shaft, savouring every sordid sensation as he eased himself in and out, she choked back tears when the final eruption coursed through her. The orgasm was made perfect when the priest’s explosion filled her hole. The rush of his hot copious spend thrilled her and made her sob with gratitude.
    It took her a moment to regain her bearings after the climax.
    She expected to recover from a haze of delight while still laying on the altar but the priest quickly unfastened her bondage and dragged her away. She was deposited rudely on the chancel, poignantly aware of her nudity with icy fingers of guilt renewing their grip at her chest. The bishop and the priest loomed over her and, sitting beneath them, Justine saw the penitent young woman had returned to the church. Without the discretion of the confessional booth Justine now felt awkward beneath the woman’s sullen frown. The flush of the orgasm, the pleasure and decadence Justine had so recently enjoyed, ebbed away as she realised she remained at the mercy of the priest and his bishop.
    ‘You told this girl to come back when she’d been punished,’ the priest reminded Justine. ‘What do you want