He didn't wait, but pushed me down right there in the confessional and as I opened my mouth to ask a silly question, Father John filled it with his hard d**k. He had a nice one too, like the ones I dreamt about sometimes. Maybe not as long as Ron's, but just as thick and seriously rock solid. Father John wasn't an old man either, just forty maybe, and neither big nor small for a full grown man. He was an average guy in the looks department, but just then I thought he had the most beautiful c**k in the world.
I crammed as much of his d**k in my mouth as I could, like I was starving for it, and maybe I was. I grabbed the shaft with both hands and felt him so incredibly hot and heavy, soft and hard at the same time. His skin felt like silk as I squeezed the man's p***s and swirled my tongue
