Father Bland's Angels: Verse 01

The head of her father's cock went into her throat and she had to fight not to choke on it. She wasn't going to get any more in, so she had a sudden idea instead. Maybe she could wank it and suck it at the same time! She pulled her head back along the stiff appendage and started moving her hand up and down the bottom of the shaft. At the same time she bobbed her head on the end, enjoying the feeling as she kissed her own hand when they met in the middle. Spit had run past her stretched lips and made her hand glide easily on the skin.

"Ohhh, sweet Jesus," Her father cried, thrashing about. If she hadn't been warned by Father Bland, she would have thought he was in pain. "Ohhhh God God God oooo!"

It was really quite fun to suck and wank the cock like this, Diana thought cheerfully. It was a bit of a physical test. She could feel the well-toned muscles in her neck and arms working, her jaw straining to stay open so wide. Her father's cock tasted nicer than the priest's had, maybe bigger ones tastes better?

"Uhhh, sweetie, sweetie, you have to stop," Her father was saying, his hands at her shoulders. "You have to stop."

"Nnn-nnnh." She murmured around his dick. She looked up at him happily, sucking just the head of his cock as she wanked the powerful length of it. He looked so flushed and sweaty, as if he'd run a marathon.

"You're gonna make me, uh, oooh, you're gonna make me, um, ooooo..." He trailed off as he shook in rapture, his head thrown back and mouth wide open. Diana was wondering what she was going to make him do when his cock throbbed in her hand and a gush of cum, unbelievably hot, burst into her mouth.

Reflexively she pulled her head back, coughing as it filled her throat. She felt more hot sprays of the goo hit her in the face and neck, her father practically howling. When she got control of herself and tried to open them, she found that one of them was glued shut with her father's cum. She looked up at him with one eye, smiling.

Joe stared down at his daughter between his thighs, almost weeping with the force of the most powerful orgasm he'd ever experienced. He'd never felt his cum go on shooting for so long, and so many squirts. Diana's face was plastered in it, her breasts splattered, the pool water marked with little floating globules. Somehow he felt as though he still had an erection, his dick still standing up stiff and leaking semen out its hole.

"Oh, Daddy, so much cum!" She exclaimed happily, actually clapping her hands. Joe noticed that her bikini top had come off during her blowing him. His eyes stuck to her incredible round tits, speckled with drops of both water and jizz.

Without even thinking, his hands went to those sexy young tits, grasping them eagerly. They each fit neatly into his hands, just big enough to be a large handful, so firm and youthful. She squealed and giggled.

"Daddy! That tickles!" She shrieked gaily. He ignored her, letting his thumbs move over her nipples, feeling how rubbery and warm they were. The unbelievable boner he had was throbbing painfully, as though he hadn't cum at all. One of his hands went to the back of her head, sinking into the silky wet hair.

"Suck me," He growled, pulling her head down again. "Suck Daddy's cock, sweetie. Yes, yes, suck it."

Her mouth closed on his dick again, sucking hard, her tongue repeating the magic movements that had made him explode so powerfully. His control was totally taken away by the feel of his daughter's tit in his hand, he pushed her head down into his lap, hearing her splutter and gag on his length. He was shoving it deeper inside her, forcing himself into her throat.

After a few beautiful moments he released her, watching her cough as she came up from his dick. He pulled her closer to him, pulling her body up against his balls, spreading his legs around her. His cock was between her tits and he moaned as he took hold of them, squeezing them over his erection. The wet teenage flesh felt heavenly as it covered the shaft.

"Uhhh God..." He groaned.

"Ow, Daddy," She squirmed. "That's a bit rough."

"Sshh!" He demanded, squeezing and rubbing the perfect tits on himself, forcing her to grab his legs to keep her balance. "Yeah, fucking great tits."

"What, Daddy? I don't know what you-"

"Ssshh, sweetie," He let his cock spring out from the heavenly valley. "Suck it now, suck my cock. Suck it like before. Yes, jerk it, jerk it and suck it, yeah."

The suction of her mouth was amazing, the slurping sounds of her attentions making him even more turned on. Her movements made her tits bounce in his hands and he relaxed his grip so he could feel them move around in his palms. Her nipples, which had hardened up into little brown buds, brushed his skin and made him moan in pleasure.

God, it was so good. Even his legs were electrified by the feeling of her lean body between his calves. She was wanking him hard and fast, sucking and licking his cockhead enthusiastically, making little moans of effort.

"Uh yeah," He grunted. "Yeah, gonna cum again, oh God!"

Diana pulled her head away, still wanking him hard. He clutched the firm teen tits hard as she yanked him to orgasm. He cried out, almost screaming as hot sperm geysered from his dick, splattering over his hands and the breasts he held. Gasping, he watched the jets of cum leap onto Diana's already soaked face and chest.

"Oh Daddy," She giggled, squinting through the mask of cream. "That was fun!"

"Oh my God," He panted. "What have I done?"

***

Lucas was sitting in his office, humming tunelessly as he wrote out a message for the student notices. It was a few days since he had seen Diana Takchi and he still felt very good, warmed by the memory of her. He was also curious as to what had happened between her and her father, though he assumed all had gone well. It was, after all, the will of God.

He glanced at the clock. 2:15. Still plenty of time before the end of the school day. It had been quite a slow day, working away on his various newsletter entries and pamphlets, and proof-reading some teaching ideas to make sure they were in line with Christian thinking.

And I especially urge those students who are over the age of eighteen, who have any questions regarding family relationships, to come and see me, he wrote. I have many practical ideas that can teach you to handle the hard and sticky areas of life.

He was thinking about how to continue -- and Diana's breasts -- when there was a knock at his door.

"Come in!" He called genially, arranging himself in an open posture.

The short, yet imposing figure of Sister Marjorie bustled into his office. She was hustling someone in front of her. Lucas' interest soared as he recognised the girl from one of the senior classes he had visited.

"We are very sorry to trouble you, Father," The nun declared, her face crimson. "This is Heather. Heather, say hello to Father Bland."

"Hello, Father."

Lucas let himself take in the girl before speaking. She was taller than Sister Marjorie, slender, with an ample chest. In fact, her school blouse may have been bought before she blossomed, as the buttons seemed rather stretched. Her hair was a cheerful bright blonde, pulled into two cute pigtails. She had a very cute, cheerful face, though at the moment she wore an expression of shame, her blue eyes downcast.

"Hello Heather," He said gently. "What can I do for you ladies?"

"Heather is here to speak to you, Father," The nun drummed out like a drill sergeant. "About her absolute disregard for the word of the Lord."

He studied the cute face, the little button nose and pink cheeks. "Is this true, Heather?"

The girl mumbled inaudibly.

"Speak up!" Marjorie commanded.

"I didn't mean to." Heather managed.

"Don't you lie to the Father, now," The sister said. "God will see your lies, here more than anywhere."

Lucas raised a placating hand. "Let's just wait a second, Sister. Heather, how old are you?"

"Eighteen." She mumbled.

"Oh, then this is very serious," He said. "Very serious. Sister, I need to speak with Heather alone, if you don't mind."

"Of course not, Father."

"Please close the door. Okay, Heather," He said when they were alone, the girl still standing dejectedly. "What happened?"

"I'm really sorry," She said, her lip trembling. "I just said... um, Sister Grace said we were going to do Bible readings, and, um..."

"Yes? What did you say?"

"Um, like, my friend Vanessa sits next to me, and... I said to her... I didn't feel like reading the Bible."

"Yes?"

"And Sister Grace heard me!" She blurted, getting closer to tears. Lucas almost grinned as he realised that this was the extent of her crime. Just in time he forced himself into a frown of consternation.

"Well, I agree with the Sisters. This is most serious, my child."

"But I didn't mean it!" She wailed.

"That is not the issue, child," He overrode her sternly. "The issue is your... very serious blasphemy. Yes, that'll do. Blasphemy!"

"Oh!" To his amazement, she sank to her knees. "Please forgive me, Father!"

He couldn't pass this up. He jumped to his feet and strode around the desk, keeping his face very stern. Inside he was overjoyed to have the cute little teenager kneeling in front of him. Still, it was probably not a good idea to just whip out his cock.

Instead he placed a hand on the soft blonde head, imagining pulling it into his crotch. She looked up at him with watery eyes.

"Be at peace, my child," He said. "I can help you to find the forgiveness of God."

"Yes! Yes please help me Father." She grabbed his legs in desperation.

"You will need to confess your sins to me." He said, waving towards the new confessional in the far corner of the room.

"Oh, of course, of course." She said, already smiling in relief.

"Just a minute, Heather. This will be a different sort of confession to what you are used to."

"I'll do anything, Father. Anything."

"That's a good girl, very good," He gestured towards the confessional. "Let me hear your confession now."

When she was seated in the dimness of the confessional, Heather began to feel better. She was certain that with Father Bland's help, she would get past the terrible sins that she had committed. Why had she ever said that about the Bible? She must have known it was wrong.

The screen slid open, revealing the outline of the priest's head.

"Yes, my child?" He intoned.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned," She began the familiar words. "It has been two days since my last confession."

"Go on, my child."

"I... um... I did a terrible blasphemy Father. I... uh... said I didn't want to read the Bible, but I didn't mean it."

"I see," His voice came sternly through the screen. "That is a most serious sin. Do you know what Jesus said about those who commit this sin?"

"Um, no, Father."

"Jesus said unto them: 'those that say that they are unwilling to read my words, they must be inspected for sins by my priests.'"

"Oh," Heather said, trying to remember this passage from her many readings of the Good Book. "I don't remember that, Father, sorry. Where is it?"

"It's in a special book, one for priests only," He said quickly. "Now, are you willing to obey the words of Jesus and be forgiven?"

"Oh yes, Father, of course." She gushed.

"Then kneel facing the screen, my child," His voice seemed kinder now. "And prepare for your inspection."

Heather knelt on the floor, surprised by the padded cushion she felt under her knees. She noticed that the wall in front of her had a strange decoration like three circles, one lower than the other two. As she looked at them, she heard the sliding of another screen and the circles opened, showing the dim chamber of the priest beyond.

"Father?" She asked.

"Sssh, quiet, my child. Now, don't be alarmed, I'm going to inspect you."

Heather gasped quietly as the priest's hand came through the bottom hole, about level with her mouth. She watched it reach down and gasped again, louder, as the questing fingers found her right breast.

"Ooh, Father, what are you doing?" She asked tremulously as the hand rubbed her big breast, squeezing its firm curves through her school blouse.

"I'm inspecting you. Now stay still."

Heather obeyed, staying still and biting her lip as Father Bland's hand migrated to her left breast, squeezing it roughly and giving it little shakes. She tried not to make her disquiet audible as the hand moved back and forth on her chest, rubbing and wobbling. She thought she could hear the priest breathing heavily. She didn't know what he was looking for, but it seemed to be quite difficult.

"Father?" She asked. "Is it okay?"

"Huh?" The priest mumbled. "Oh, oh yes, well. I can't tell, my child. I think your clothing is blocking my... uh... priest powers, yes. Take them off."

Heather felt her nerves soar, even as she was happy he had taken his hand away.

"My clothes?"

"Yes. Just your shirt and bra should do it. Take them off now please."

"Um... Father, do I have-"

"Heather," He interrupted angrily. "For the sake of your soul, you must take your top off now. Jesus commands it!"

"Okay," She said meekly. "Yes, Father."

Feeling very strange, Heather unbuttoned her school blouse and stripped it off, putting it on the seat. She unclipped her bra and put it aside as well. It was very weird to look down and see her bare breasts in the dim light of the confessional.

"Are you ready yet, Heather?" He asked impatiently.

"Um, yes, Father but -- oooh!"

She shivered as his cool hand took hold of her left breast, now with nothing between them. She thought she heard him make a strange groaning sound as his fingers squeezed her bare flesh. Another gasp escaped her as the hand found her nipple and pinched it, a wave of electric sensation running down her body.

"Oooh, Father, it feels funny!"

"Sssh, Heather. Hmmm, yesss, very nice," He was mumbling, his hand mauling both her breasts. "Yes, so young and firm."

"Father? What do you mean?"

"Sssh."

Heather bit her lip and tried to ignore the odd feeling of her chest being pushed, pulled and massaged. She also tried to ignore the priest's heavy breathing and muttering.

"Heather?" He said eventually, still squeezing her right boob.

"Um, yes, Father?" She squeaked.

"Well, uh, Heather, I, uh. Well, I think you need to perform an act of contrition, um, yes that's it. I think you should do it right now."

"Should I pray, Father?"

"No, uh, I mean yes, but not right now," He stuttered. "I think you need to... um... receive the... er... juice of, um, forgiveness."

"The juice of forgiveness?" She asked wonderingly.

"Yes, it's, uh, the only way to save your soul. Yes, that's right."

"What is it, Father?" She asked, distracted enough to not notice the fingers clutching at her chest.

"It's a juice," He paused. "That will bring you forgiveness. Yes. You will have to suck the juice out, um... from the, uh, rod of... holiness."

"What's that?"

"I'll show you," He said, then laughed in a strange way. "Stay where you are and I'll show you, yes."

Heather stayed kneeling, letting out a sigh of relief as Father Bland withdrew his hand back through the hole. She heard a sound like a zipper along with the priest's heavy breathing. She was watching the hole in the dim light when a strange object appeared in it, moving forward. It looked like a sausage, as though it was made of meat, with a shiny dome-like end. She could see a hole in the end of it. It was the weirdest thing she had ever seen.

"Oh my goodness!" She exclaimed. "What is it?"

"It's the rod of, um, holiness, yes. Now put it in your mouth, Heather."

Her face screwed up in disgust. "Oh, Father, do I have to? It looks weird."

"Yes, you have to," He snapped. "You have to suck it, Heather. Now put it in your mouth, or you'll go to hell."

"Oh no!" She squeaked, her cute face pouting in horror. She moved her face closer to the thing, slowly opening her mouth. She could smell a slight musty odour coming from it.

"I promise I'll read the Bible! I'll be good, Father." She pleaded.

"It's too late. Now suck this di-, I mean, rod. Suck the rod, Heather."

Heather shuffled closer on her knees. The rod was right in front of her face, moving in little twitches. It looked really gross up close, all covered in little ridges. If it hadn't been for her guilt, she would have run away. But she had to give penance for her blasphemy, had to endure this for Jesus.

Her lips touched the end of the rod. It felt rubbery and warm, surprising her. She held it between her lips and gave a little suck, like on an ice block. At the same time, she heard Father Bland gasp loudly.

"Yes, very good, unh," She heard the priest say. "Now put it further in your mouth, child. Don't put your teeth on it. Oooh yes, yes."

The cute blonde teenager braced herself against the wall and wiggled her lips down the shaft of the rod, letting the smooth end go past her teeth and onto her tongue. She was unable to stop her curious tongue from licking at it, especially the ridge of the domed end, where it felt oddly springy. She wondered what it was made from. It tasted oddly salty, kind of like sweat.

She could hear Father Bland, sounding like he was praying fervently. At least he kept saying 'Jesus' and 'God' a lot. She sucked on the thing and licked at it, hoping she was doing the right thing. She felt very strange though, kneeling in a confessional with no top on, sucking on a weird object. She certainly hadn't expected this when she got up this morning!

"Now, ooo, Heather," She heard the priest say. "Stay there, you're doing great. But I have to help you get the cu-, I mean, juice out. Now I'm going to hold your head, you just stay still."

Heather had her eyes open, so she saw the two hands reach through the two higher holes in the wall. They gently took hold of her head, moving around until the fingers met her pigtails. She felt the priest take careful hold of her pigtails as he moaned, she guessed in some sort of holy rapture.

She moaned herself, in surprise, when the rod suddenly moved forward into her mouth, pushing almost to the back of her tongue. The priest's hands held her head in place as the rod was withdrawn slowly, almost to its tip, before being shoved back inside. She moaned in feeble protest as the process continued, trying to keep her mouth open around the penetrating lump. The grip on her pigtails was almost painful as the rod's thrusts pushed her head back over and again.

"Oh God, oh God, oooh yes," Father Bland was saying. "Ooooh yes suck it, suck it harder, God ye-e-es!"

The pretty eighteen-year-old face tried to obey, slurping at the now-very-wet pole, feeling her own spit running down her chin and neck. The priest seemed to be speaking in tongues, moaning and crying out, the whole confessional shaking. Heather's world seemed to focus entirely on the thing penetrating her face, hoping that soon she would pass the test and be forgiven.

"Oh God," She heard him cry. "Oh God, here it comes, here it comes!"

She dimly wondered what he meant when the rod convulsed between her lips and her mouth was flooded with a horrible thick liquid, like sticky cream, tasting salty and gross. She would have retched if she wasn't still held in place, forced to keep letting the spurting rod into her mouth, more and more of the yucky stuff squirting out of it. She couldn't help it, she had to swallow. It was hard to get down, almost choking her, then she had to swallow again to get rid of another disgusting mouthful.

Then she found herself released, the rod pulled from her mouth. She sagged back against the bench, coughing, eyes watering. She swallowed repeatedly and couldn't get rid of the taste, which made her cough even more. Her whole face felt wet, when she looked down she could see that her spit had run all down her chest, making her breasts shiny.