“Is that right?” I hummed, wanting to question him about the strange alter but also curious about this man as well.
“
“I feel like I am doing the opposite, dedicating myself to the church first and being tempted by flesh afterwards. Can I anoint you?” Pastor Young’s eyes gleamed, and I looked at the gold cup he had in his hand. It was filled with thick, glittery oil. I smiled, low and slow. There were more important things to focus on than whether Pastor Young prayed to a demon god. I needed to get myself juiced up. I undid the buttons of my dress, letting it pool at my feet.
“Let’s light these candles. What we’re about to do? That’s saint worthy, pastor.”
He nodded, currently speechless, and hurried to do my bidding. I walked over to the wall and flipped the lights, feeling fantastic in my lacy white underwear. August hurried over to me, dipping his fingers in the oil before hovering them over my chest, a few drops hitting my skin.
“You are what the gods dream of,” he muttered as he fell to his knees. He ran his eager fingers over the generous curve of my ass. I reached behind and unsnapped the bra, tossing it to the side.
“How long has it been since you’ve been inside a woman Pastor?” I asked. Bringing his mouth to my nipple, I encouraged him to suckle. His eyes were glazed as he popped off, his lips reddened.
“At least a decade,” he admitted, and I moaned at the thought. My fingers flew to his buttoned shirt and wrenched it open, relishing in the pinging sound they made as they bounced over the floor.
“I want you to take me there,” I pointed to the podium. He nodded, shirking off his shirt and the rest of his clothes. He tried to stand but I pressed the toe of my boot to his shoulder, pressing him down again.
“Crawl,” I ordered, chest rising with excitement. He didn’t argue, crawling slowly up the few stairs and looking back.
“Good boy,” I praised. “Lie on your back now.”
I was high off lust now, creating it and absorbing it just as quickly. I straddled his hips, notching his straining cock at the front of my pussy. He gulped audibly.
“I need you. God I need you.”
“God isn’t anywhere near this room,” I taunted, leaning over to let my tits brush his chest. “But I am, and I promise I can show you more pleasure.”
I grabbed the pitcher of oil and turned it up, letting it drip down my body, making it look golden and slick in the flickering light. August’s hands hovered like he wanted to touch but didn’t know if he was allowed.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he sounded mournful for a moment before the lust surged again. I gripped my hand around his cock and swallowed his answering groan with my tongue. His skin was hot, slippery and hungry after I made him writhe beneath me.
“Do you want me to stop? I won’t ever touch you again. Just tell me no.”
I rocked on top of him, my underwear a thin barrier between his cock. Holding tightly to my lust, I didn’t want to influence him no matter how desperately I needed this. I wouldn’t give in. He needed to choose me. To fall from his pedestal and sin by his own hand. He wasn’t a Saint. He was a just a man. I whimpered, changing to the angle I craved. Planting my hands on either side of his face. I ground against him minutely, knowing I could pull aside my underwear and impale myself on him immediately. He’d never have another regret. Not after he felt my pussy.
“I’m to serve you,” he explained, the whites of his eyes flashing. His fingers fell to my hips and tightened. “This feels too good. It feels like heaven. I’m not supposed to feel this way.”
I slowed to a stop, ignoring his noise of regret.
“Don’t you want to be good for me?” I prodded. “Don’t you want to please me? I need this cock inside me. I need to ride you till you fill me full of hot cum.”
“I’m a pastor. Ten years I’ve been celibate for the Lord. But I can’t stop. I need you.” His eyes flashed, tipped up mulishly. I reached down and pulled my underwear to the side, letting his cock head drag through my soaked pussy.
“Tell me you want me.”
“I want you.”
I sank a little lower, my thighs burning as I hovered. My pussy reacted like a hungry animal. I had derived it of cock far too long. The last person had been Reeve and while I didn’t think I would ever erase his touch from my body, I was willing to try. Pastor Young didn’t stand a chance. Not against a succubus' pussy. It sucked him in, even as I tried to hold it back, scorching hot and clamping down around him tightly. It wouldn’t let him go until it got what it wanted.
What I wanted.
“Allera!” he cried out, his eyes scrunching closed. “H-how can it feel like this?”
“Tell me you give in. That you’re my sinner. My supplicant,” I begged. Sweat beaded on my upper lip as I held back, every part of me straining to swallow his rock-hard cock.
“I’m yours. I’m… God. Fuck. I’m yours. Fuck me,” he cried, and I sighed, sinking until my pussy ground against him, his cock deep inside me. My eyes rolled back, my pussy strangling his cock. I rocked back and forth, getting some movement back as my pussy realized I wasn’t going to stop. August’s hands were leaving bruises on my hips. He sobbed incoherently. I had no patience for slow, not with the lust swirling around me, exciting and making me hungry for more. I rode August fiercely, grinding into him deeply until he couldn’t last, his thighs twitching under me as he shot his load deep inside me. My pussy clamped down. Devouring every drop. The physical embodiment of lust.
It didn’t give me power, but I got high off the sensation all the same. I leaned down and kissed him, reaching behind to suck on his neck. I wanted to mark him. I wanted him to look in the mirror and see how far he’d fallen. Balls deep on his holy altar. I needed more. I slid off him and got on all fours.