He curled them perfectly, stroking that spongy spot that made my vision blur.
My juices coated his chin, his fingers, dripping onto the marble altar beneath me. The wet, obscene sounds of him eating my p***y echoed through the empty church.
He ate me like he was taking communion — slow, deep, worshipful licks mixed with hungry sucks and filthy groans. Every time I got close he slowed down, drawing it out until I was whimpering and begging.
“Please— I need to come— Father, please let me come on your tongue—”
He pulled back just enough to look up at me, lips shiny with my cream, eyes dark with lust.
“Not yet. I want you dripping and desperate when I finally f**k you on this altar.”
He added a third finger, stretching me wider, pumping them in and out while his tongue returned to my c**
