Father O’Brian

I was in the booth for thinking of dirty and racy thoughts.
Father O’Brian was in there listening and doing what he always does like sticking that big, fat, juicy
prick through the screen and squirting his stream into my face.
But this time instead of running out and crying to the bathroom and fingering myself in one of the stalls and having a altar boy stick his little peter in my tight ass.
I reached over and put his prick in my mouth and crunching and swallowing his sole reason for living.
It really tasted good. He never bothered me again.

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