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Father Kruspe

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You haven't attended the Sunday school in two weeks. Very unusual because your grandparents were very strict. Sister had asked your you grandma if you were sick, but she said she hasn't heard about you, she was disappointed. Second Sunday, Father Kruspe frowned as one of the participants was missing again, but carried on.

It wasn't like you disappeared suddenly, you still walked around the small city like nothing, did your groceries and errands, continued your studies. And Father had seen you in the city, but not on Sundays. He was worried, has something happened to your faith? You always attended Sunday school since you were 4. Third Sunday rolled in...

The Sunday school had already ended, and you felt like it was safe to go visit your friend. Unfortunately, the chruch was on the way there. You shrugged and kept smoking your cig, walking like nothing.

"(Y/Full/N) GET YOUR BUTT HERE NOW!" You stopped dead as you heard your grandmas stern voice from the chruch door. Quickly throwing the half-spent cig away you bowed all the smoke from your lungs out and turned to walk to the place you had so much avoided.

"Where have you been? You haven't attended Sunday church in three weeks, no word from you!" She tapped her foot on the pavement, you looking down there. You had told your friends about the reason, they weren't believers much, so it was alright. But you would never ever in God's holy name say it out loud to anyone else, especially your grandparents.

"I... I just haven't been feeling like... Coming here lately... Just-" You tried to explain yourself but you grandma stopped you.

"Darling, I'm worried about you. Have you lost your Faith? Father Kruspe is worried too." You grandpa quickly exited to get the car so he doesn't have to participate in this awkward conversation.

"Do you have something on your shoulders, (y/n)? Father Kruspe is still there if you need to confess. You know he is there to always listen." You look up at your grandma and nod, swallowing the lump in your throat as yiu heard his name again.

"Grandma I... I don't know... About that..." You told her, fiddling with your fingers. Your grandpa drove next to you, ready pick up his wife and head home.

"(Y/n), please do go to confession, for me okay? Or at least go say hi to Father." And with that she got in the car and left. You stood there, outside the chruch thinking if you should go in or not.

The fear of those thoughts entering your mind fully again when inside was horrible. What if everyone saw through your eyes inside your mind. What if you stared at Father Kruspe too long. Worst, what if you got aroused in confessional and he smells it. You took a deep breath, filled your mind with trigonometry you studied this week, and stepped inside the familiar building. It was empty. No one seemed to be there. Soon you heard steps from other side, Father Kruspe walked in, in his own thoughts looking down to his feet.

A scared whimper choked inside your chest as he noticed you, a wide smile spread on his face. You looked away, towards the confessional booth, Father Kruspe understanding you and heading to his side of the booth. You looked at the huge statue of crucified Jesus on the wall and made the sign of a cross. You sit inside the booth, making sure the little curtain is fully closed, your breathing was ragged and you knew how Father Kruspe sat there, quiet and calm like a cow.

"F-Forgive me Father for I have sinned." You said it too quickly for your own judgement.

"How long has it been since your last confession, (y/n)?" Father Kruspe’s voice was deeper than you remember, and the way he made a pause before saying your name gave you goosebumps.

"I... I don't remember. Long."

"You haven't attended the chruch in weeks, today included. Is everything okay?" You closed your eyes, leaned back, making the old wood creak a little. What's the point of this all if you avoid the real matter? You knew that getting it out loud helped, that Father Kruspe yiu can trust with anything, as you've done your whole life. He basically knows you deep inside.

Not deep enough.

"Father... I have sinned, badly. I'm so ashamed that I couldn't come here, so I avoided this place. I've been praying, but it doesn't help." There it is, laid out. You said it. Well not exactly it but close enough.

"(Y/n), what is this sin that bothers you so much. There hasn't been anything in these years you haven't been able to tell me, for what i know. What is so powerful of a sin that gets you, darling." His voice was calm, unlike you were. Anxiety swam inside you and your breath hitched.

"You." What did I do? Fuckfuckfuck...

"I'm so sorry Father. I didn't mean to say it. I-" You almost cried now, it showed in your voice.

"Calm down. Breath." Well fuck how can he remain so calm, and tell you to be calm. "Please continue. Let it out."

"Oh, fucking God..."You cursed under your breath, realizing your mistake as Father Kruspe noted you to mind your language after all. You already said enough to give it so why not to tell the rest.

"You are the sin that got me. Well not you, it's lust. But you're the one... I.... Lust..." Your heart raced like a horse and you held your breath.

"How long has this sin consumed you?" His voice was still calm, good sign, maybe.

"At least six months. It got too much but last month I still hold it inside, I let it be in my mind, hidden away. But it got too much and... And..." You gulped, really considering if it’s good idea to say it.

"Yes?" You heard him take in a deep but soft breath after.

"And I touched myself. I touched myself thinking about you Father. I did more than once. It felt good and I don't regret doing it, but it is a weight on me. I would do it again." And why the fuck did you say that... Silence fell into the booth, you held your breath, to possibly hear his, which was heavy.

He coughs a bit, and you let yourself breath again, blinking the tears away as if someone saw you.

"Repeat after me...

[Insert some long ass prayer where you ask god's forgiveness for lusting etc.etc.etc. idk this stuff.]"

You said every word carefully, hands crossed and eyes shut. You felt like you used physical muscle power to keep the sinful thoughts away. Listen to what he says, not his voice.

"Amen." You both finished, silence taking over again. "Father... I'm sorry. For not coming here when I most should have. And... For this... How personal this is."

"Not always can we control our mind. This modern time has messed up with us humans. But as long as we have Faith in our savior, and we can forgive ourselves, everything shall be fine. It was good to see you, (y/n). God bless." He left, sounded like he hurried out, which was unlikely him. You knew that you said something that you shouldn't ever say.

You quietly exit the booth yourself and notice Father kneeled in front of the altar. Head down, hands together, praying out loud, you couldn't hear what he was saying but it was fast paced. Clearly you shocked him.

Next week you wanted to avoid chruch at all costs, but your grandmother almost dragged you there. Saying that hearing the holy words will help you with, whatever you were clearly struggling with. You were about to leave the house in blue jeans and gray t-shirt but you were stopped.

"You should wear that pretty skirt you got for birthday last year. It's burning outside." You didn't wanna cause any more trouble to your grandma and went to change. You didn't hate dresses but in situations like these you would've rather used pants.

Digging out the black dress with blue and red rose line art you sighed. Why would she want me to wear a mid-thigh length skirt that leaves so much skin bare anyway?

Father Kruspe must think you're doing this on purpose. You tried to tug the skirt as low as possible without showing the skin between it and shirt. The shirt matched the skirt, it had sleeves that ended just above your elbow. Why the fuck is this in two pieces. God...

You walked into the car, hearing your grandma praise how pretty you look with it. She seems to not understand that you're not a child anymore. Not even underage.

You packed yourselves into the church, taking the front seats as always, though you wished yiu could stay in the back. Memories from your last visit entered your mind and you tried to shook them away.

As always, Sunday chruch started with Father, in this case Kruspe because Riedel was sick, welcoming everyone. You tried to look anywhere than at him.

"I have my dear Sunday schoolers to be with, but our sister will sing and pray with you today. God bless." He exited the altar and waited for his 'children' to follow him to the back. You were all definitely not children anymore, but for some reason the group of you ten bonded so well that you all with Father Kruspe decided to continue it. You followed the others, staying last in the line, holding your hands in front of you and keeping your steps short.

Taken your seats on sofas and bean bags, you on sofa legs tightly shut, Father Kruspe smiled friendly to everyone, as always, but when his glance passed yours, his smile seemed to fade for a second. You felt awkward being there.

"And hey, (y/n) has joined us again! Wonderful to have you with us here." You couldn't make out if he was faking or serious.

"Yup. Just needed some time for myself. But I'm here now!" You smiled, a Christian friend of yours giving you a side hug, reminding you that they're always here for you. Just if they knew...

You tried to focus on his story of... Something, well focused you didn't even know the topic. You were dissociating, thank god not uncomfortably so. First your thoughts were nothing or just school, then as you did look what Father Kruspe was doing they changed. And you didn't even realize that you were staring at his hands, that moved and unpacked various crafting materials, his face, as he was looking away, how his lips moved, how soft they are, warm against yours. His hands must be the same, calloused but tender, feeling up your skin under his, would he make a sound if you gave a playful nib to his lower lip, how would it sound with your tongues tangled...

"(Y/n)! (Yyy/nnn)!!" That same friend was waving her hand in front of your eyes, you snapped from your thoughts and looked at her.

"Do you wanna make blue or red flowers?" She asked. You quickly scanned the room to see what was going on. Ah, cutting flowers from color paper and gluing them on bigger one, simple.

"Both?" You asked, she nodded and gave them to you, then sitting next to you handing you pen and scissors.

"Do you have problems with sleeping? You dozed out pretty well there." She asked, nose in her paper.

"Yeah... And school is being bit harsh on me these days. But it's getting better no worries." You assure and started sketching on the paper.

40 minutes later you found yourself with bunch of red and blue roses, that resemble once in your outfit, oh well. You took yourself some time to stretch your neck and look around. Everyone was chatting with each other, laughing and joking. just like always, since the beginning.

You looked at Father Kruspe, accidentally as you by now know to avoid him. He was folding colorful cardboard paper in half, as they were way too big as one. You watched how he focused to get the corners straight, then peering the seam in, how his other hand was flat on the paper and other carefully holding the box cutter and carefully sliding it through the seam. His face was so beautiful, as he focused, his tongue flicking over his lips quickly, and you felt a small pool of heat in your abdomen.

"So, if you're ready with the flowers, I have some bases here. Come get your color before someone else does." Father Kruspe got up and put the box cutter back in locked closet. Slowly walking around the space and watching how's everyone doing. Remembering to tell every single one that they're very skillful and artistic. You swear you had more than physical lust for this man and quickly got up to get a black cardboard paper for your flowers as he got closer to your desk.

As you came back with the paper, unfortunately Father hasn't left your desk but was talking with your friend and examining your roses, holding one, your eyes spotting his soft hands again. *Nononono. Stop. It*

"These are beautiful, (y/n). And you're gonna use black base? That makes this a complete twin with your outfit." He smiled at you as you say down. Fuck he has pretty smile, bit crooked but...

"Thank you, Father. It wasn't intentional, just coincidence that I went for these." You reached for the glue stick and at the same time Father Kruspe was putting down one of your roses, making your hands touch for a half a second. You quickly draw your hand away, opening the glue and starting to place the roses on the paper.

"Blue and red roses are my favorites." He said and was about to leave but his hand that rested on the table knocked over pair of scissors. He went to pick them up, and as you by natural reaction checked did anyone notice, he had a good peek a boo under your skirt. He didn't see much, just a tiny flash of red and maybe a lace?

You had no idea what he just did, and continued to glue the flowers. Your mind wondered off again, on how his hand touched yours, even though it was very small and quick touch it felt like it was more. You thought how his hand would feel in yours, as you guided his fingers up your leg, closer to you. How his eyes would change from his hands position to your eyes, if he stared at your lips and softly grabbed your thigh, thumb almost *there*....

A sudden wet feeling between your legs brought you in reality, and your eyes went wide. You quickly got up and excused yourself to your friend and headed to the door, to find the toilet. Father Kruspe watched as you hurried out, noticing that your skirt had hiked up a bit, and he swore he saw something glistening where your thighs met. Of course, it could have been sweat, it's over 30C anyway. He said a quiet prayer for himself and looked at the clock, it was soon 5pm, which meant the Sunday school ending.

You locked the toilet door, lifting up your skirt and pulling your (indeed) red lace panties down a bit, seeing the clear sticky wetness that dripped from you. “Oh, fucking god...” You cursed and took some toilet paper, trying to clean yourself up. Some of it got ‘stuck' on your panties and you hoped that the warm weather won't give out the obvious smell.

The other youths probably wouldn't realize it, as they are innocent as far as you know, but Father Kruspe. You were sure he knew enough about sex to recognize the smell, even if he doesn't have as usual sex life as a normal male would??? The fuck you knew but you wanted to get home and take a shower.

You exited the toilet, with skirt as low as possible, your bellybutton almost showing. Entering the room where Father Kruspe was ending the day with looking through everyone's art pieces. Just as you got in, he lifted yours up.

"And this was made by (y/n)! Isn't it beautiful, matches her outfit." He gestured between you and the picture, making you blush. Didn't he basically call your outfit beautiful. You walked to get your phone from the couch.

"Thank you for today. You are all just creative sunshines! Have a nice day and God bless." Father Kruspe clapped his hands together and watched as everyone left.

"(Y/n), do you have a moment? I'd like to go through the last three times topic with you quickly. I have the materials in my office." Father asked casually, like it was nothing. You felt the familiar wetness and cursed mentally. You nodded and followed him to the main hall, where your grandparents waited for you.

"Hello Mrs. and Mr. (whatever surname). I'm happy you got (y/n) to come here today. I was thinking of showing the topics of the times she missed and such. If you don't mind of course. I can drive her home so you don't have to suffer in this heat." He laughed a little, my grandma agreeing with him more than happily. *And I am supposed to, in this condition, spend time alone with him in his office, and then have him drive me home? I'm gonna go fucking crazy! *

You silently followed him to his office, it was small but cozy with few closets and cabinets, a desk with chair on both sides and a small worn out brown leather couch.

"Take a seat please." He gestures the couch and you hesitate the leather in this weather, but hold your skirt as you sit down, legs tightly shut again. The couch is old and dips back a bit.

"Do you want to go through the topics or talk." He suddenly asks, all the playfulness has left his voice and it's low, very serious. You don't answer, but look at the wooden floor covered by a vintage carpet. You try to keep your breathing stable, your hand grabbing the hem of your skirt.

"Tell me... Please tell me you didn't..." He pauses, takes a deep breath, "T-touch yourself in there... When you left the room." You hear him swallow, and you look at his feet, too scared to face him, too shocked to move your head more.

"I- I did not do that! Why would you even-" You were almost hurt by his question, you might be filthy and not as faithful as you used to be, but not that low.

"Because when you left the room... There was clearly something wet between your thighs. Were you thinking about me?" He asks, still calm, but bothered it seemed. He was leaning on the desk, hands grabbing the edge. Your eyes got stuck on them again.

"Why... Why and how did you see that? Were you looking...-"

"(Y/n), sometimes there are things that you see, even if you don't try or want to. Now. Were you thinking about me?" He slowly walked to the couch, sitting next to you, upper body turned towards you. So fucking close on the small couch that you smelled his cologne, the cigarettes, his guilty pleasure.

"Yes..." You say trough gritted teeth. The lust was too much, changing you like never. You're the quiet girl who always minds others first, but now you just want to grab his hand and make him touch you. Part of you wanted him to feel how fucking wet you were from just his presence, the other part smelled your own arousal and tried to tell you to just leave.

"You can't just get those thoughts away. I believe that you've tried, but lust can be an enemy. I know that, I've struggled with it myself... But-" You couldn't take how calm he is, how can he act like this is some 'forgot to do your homework for 12th time' occasion.

"Stop with that! Th-that calm, explaining... Trying to... Argh! It is not helping okay!" You tried to be quiet, not knowing if someone was here still, nor is this a place to shout in. But your voice was furious, annoyed and irritated.

"Then what do you want me to do? We can pray if you want to. I don't know about you but i need to pray this out of myself. This is affecting me too, and you know it. I want to help you, okay. How can I do that, tell me." He looked straight into your soul, his breath was heavy, so was yours. He didn't sound calm anymore.

"Touch me."

Your mouth was left open, you did not believe what you just said. You were in church, sitting next to the Father that has known you since you were little and helped you through everything. Now you were dripping on his office couch, staring his dark eyes and non-readable face. This was so wrong. So Fucking Wrong. You were ashamed of yourself, and wanted to run home and hide.

"(Y/n) ..." He said, still you couldn't read his expression, but his eyes weren't the same. A silent 'please' left your lips without you knowing it.

"Forgive me Lord for I am about to sin." Father Kruspe said and before you had time to question the fuck he meant, he lifted you easily to straddle his lap, other hand holding your head and pulling you into a hungry kiss, other rubbing your heat with his whole hand, in speed of lighting.

You moaned into the kiss, that fortunately muffled it. You let in for the moment and wrapped your arms around Father Kruspe neck, tugging his perfectly combed hair.

"Jeez... You're so wet... Fuck..." He whispered, moving the lace fabric to the side, his fingers touching your bare cunt, so much better than you ever imagined. The sound of his fingers rubbing up and down was obscene, joined by your moans and heavy breaths, the slick dripping on his clothes.

His middle finger finds your clit, circling in slow and skillful manner. That makes you break the kiss and let out a loud moan, soon to be pulled into an open-mouthed kiss, Father Kruspe's tongue searching your mouth. How can a man of God be so fucking sexy and know his way around...?

The hand that hold your head leaves, to lift up your skirt, giving himself a view for the mess between your legs. He draws his fingers away, watching as the slick strings from your pussy to his hand. Father Kruspe moans at the sight, your hips following his hand, grinding against his fingers as he lets you.

"Father... Please..." You whimper, his hand that hold the skirt up, grabs your hip. "Do not call me that. Richard. It's Richard." You nod, biting your lip and pushing your hips more, until two of his fingers accidentally slip inside.

"Ah... Ri-Richard FUCK!" You start riding his fingers, hips rolling against his hand, pushing it down until it rests on his lap, all your juices messing his formal clothes.

"Are you that desperate, (y/n)? Look at this mess! How can someone be like that in...? In this building...?" He tried to sound somewhat disappointed, but instead he sounded hoarse, low guttural moans leaving his chest constantly.

You didn't answer, words weren't your special skill right now. You whined as his fingers left you, but the sight that awaited then was something... Worth it. Richard was licking your slick from your hand like his last meal. Then he pushed you off his lap, letting you see the horrible mess you made on his clothes. He leaned forward, still sitting and started taking your shirt off, pulling it over your head with your sports bra, suddenly making you feel so exposed. Even more as he quickly found the zipper of your skirt and pulled it down with your lace panties.

"Fffuuuck... It's been so long... C'mere." Richard pulled you closer by your hips, lifting one of your legs on the couch, last thing you see before his face disappears in your heat was a hungry beast, not the Father of your local church. He is messy, licking and sucking where ever he can, devouring your taste, making you a moaning mess. If somebody was in the building they would've heard.

"Richard... P-please I need you... please..." You begged. The scene was obscene, straight from a porn flick. A young lady in church office, all naked, standing there with the Father's head between their legs. He hums, acknowledging your words.

"How much do you need? Does anything satisfy you? My fingers aren't enough, my mouth isn't enough. What do you need so much..." He looks up at you, half of his face smeared with your juices, his voice was like a snake that sneaked into your ears.

"I-I need your... Please just..." He hums encouraging you to say it. You look down, and see him like that, thumbs drawing impatient circles on your hips and tongue licking all it can from his face. "Fuck- I need your cock inside me. Ah-please."

He grunts approvingly, hands ripping the white collar from his shirt, hurrying to open the buttons. He pulled you back on his lap, short open but still on. You go and kiss him, tasting yourself on every inch of his mouth and face. His hands are working the black belt open, then almost ripping the button and zipper open too, pulling his achingly hard cock out, for you to see.

You gasp as you look down, he is slowly jerking himself, and he is huge. A needy moan escapes you, pleasing Richards ears as he takes hold of your hip with other hand, guiding you over him. He rubs the red tip from your entrance to your clit and back, in no time coated with you juices. You bite your lip and look at him, no words needed. He pushes you down gently, he stretches you wide open, but it doesn't hurt as it should. Your voice is locked in your throat, nails digging into his flesh on his shoulders, eyes watching his face.

Richards mouth is open, short grunts leaving it, brows furrowed together as he tries to keep his eyes open to see every inch of you. How his cock is sinking in you.

"There has been something else you haven't confessed to me darling... Who was it...?" He whispers lowly into your ear, nibling it, pulling you closer to chest.

"Nobody... In theory you... In practice a dildo." Somehow in this situation you still felt like you just confessed a murder. Richard leans back, chuckling, amused grin on his lips. Who even is this person?

The hands on your hips guide you to move up, almost all the way, then down, giving him a show of how his cock comes out and disappears back in. The rhythm gets faster, your hips rocking bit back and forth.

Richards head falls back, eyes fluttering close and then open again, mouth open, letting moans and grunts escape. You're in heaven, almost literally, you keep looking down at the man under you, how he enjoys you, against all odds.

His hips snap against yours, neither caring if someone hears them now. His hands are everywhere, dragging his blunt nails against your soft skin, caressing all the skin he can grab.

Suddenly you're flipped over, laying on the couch, one leg over his shoulder, other around him. The pace changed completely, it was raw and animalistic. Richard was hitting his hips on yours, kissing your mouth and everywhere he reached. You grabbed his hair, pulling it, earning more grunts from him.

"That's it. Good filthy girl... Taking my cock so well... I knew there was something in you... I knew..." He was biting your neck, pushing his tongue inside you, filling you in every way possible. So so so much better than you ever imagined.

"Richard please make me cum..." You whined in middle of the kisses. His hand went down on you, fingers instantly rubbing your clit, making you buck your hips up. You're completely lost in it, your body is shaking, hips rutting against him, all you know and can feel is him making you feel things you didn't know were possible.

"Then cum. Do it. Finish the mess you started!" And that's what you did. You go taunt, your whole body going stone as his kept pounding yours. You squeezed around him, pulsing, then dropping to the couch. Your mind went black, he was still rubbing your clit, making you shudder.

As you opened your eyes slowly, still in haze, you saw how his closed, teeth gritting and he buried his head to the crook of your neck. Snapping his hips to yours few times, any rhythm gone and you hear the most animalistic growl ever, right next your ear. Pair of hands grabbing your hips hard enough to leave good bruises. And a warm liquid filling you inside.

Richard was a panting mess, laying on top of you, hips still bucking into you here and there. The moment was something you savored in, the closeness of him, the smell, the feeling, his voice...

"Ah fucking shit." Suddenly he got up, sitting on his claves, slowly pulling his softening cock out, witnessing the white liquid coming out with it. He kept cursing under his breath.

"Chill the fuck out I'm on pill...." You mumble, still in post sex haze. He relaxed a bit, still cautious. He would be lying if he said that the sight didn't make him aroused again, the past coming back to him. He watched the cum drip from inside you, messing the couch completely, he didn't care.

You were looking at him through half closed eyes, watching his face that was expressionless again, all of it in his eyes. You felt his fingers running on your pussy, making you jerk from the tenderness. He smeared your slick on his fingers, some of his cum there too and brought it to his mouth, humming as he licked them clean eyes closed.

"Lust darling... It's horrible, it's the devil..." He grunts as he pulls you up on sitting position, getting some napkins from his desk, starting to clean you up, at least most of the mess. "And I know that... I used to be... What you would call a nympho... I guess... And as I became Father, I got over it. But it's still there, deep inside. It never leaves..." His voice was calm again, he seemed to be himself as the Father Kruspe you knew, expect he was still naked with you, cleaning the cum up.

"I'm sorry for bringing that back up... But like not really." You smirked at him. He raised a bow at you, making you laugh.

"I should invite you for some proper bible study to my place. Don't you think? I can't be having this kind of girl in my church." He helped you dress up, and put on his civil clothes. And as he promised, drove you home.

"And I was serious about the bible study, (y/n). As in, you're gonna come to my house and study the bible from cover to cover." He said as he parked to the drive way. "While you fuck the hell out of me, right?" You teased, grinning and ready to open the door.

"Yes exactly!" You looked at him and he quickly corrected, "No. Study. Now be a good girl and don't give yourself reason to come and confess, okay?" You hopped out of the car and smiled. "Yes, of course Father Kruspe."