All Comments on 'Daddy Paul'

As a backslidden Christian i wish this happened in real life. Pastor knew what he was doing

fucking amazing.

I loved it. The story made me cry. I have been the organist at my church for the past 24 years. When I was 29 our minister retired and was replaced by Father Jason who was in his early 40's. I have always been a plain looking and dressing person, and very religious like the girl in the story, and I never had a boyfriend. Father Jason had been at St John's for several months, and one day (a Saturday) he asked me to come to his office to look at some organ music he had recieved from another parish. One thing led to another and I ended up on my knees sucking his penis.

I was confused and thrilled at the same time that any man would be interested in me that way. Thereafter, he took my virginity (it hurt) and for the next 15 years he would"use" me whenever he wished until he was transferred to a larger church in another state and I never heard from him again until his obituary was published in the church circular a couple of years later. To this day I have remained a plain and homely and unmarried Christian woman, but still touch myself frequently when I remember how wonderful it felt to be licked, Fucked and sodomized.

Wow.

Loved this story. ❤️

Can't wait to read more of your stories.

One constructive criticism, would have liked a bit more detail in the sex scenes as:

"Shhhh . . . shhhh . . ." Daddy said. One hand started rubbing between my thighs, and I felt him pulling at my jeans, sliding them down my legs.

"You're so wet, Jenna. "

You went from her jeans being pulled down to, you're so wet.

Would have liked a little more play by play and what she was feeling, shock, shame, humiliation, etc.

Still, great story and action.

Very hot.

Nicely written. The plot line solidifies my heart felt beliefs about the manipulative hypocrisy of organized religion. It would be nice if you could crank out another story focusing on the goodly, God fearing brothers who follow the pope . . . .