Father Augustine felt a cool chill as he turned the page of his holy book. It had gotten later, later than he expected, and soon enough realized the only company besides himself was the moon outside and the candle next to his bed to let him read. The man stretched, the words on the pages slowly losing meaning as he felt himself distracted.

That awareness that he always felt and tried to fight was winning. He could feel his round frame pressing against the mattress, his member pressing painfully and impatiently against it. He turned another page, trying to focus, but it was simply too much. It was always too much this late at night.

A soft moan left his lips as he rode his hips inwards, the friction between his body and his robes enough to make him push harder. Father Augustine soon discarded the book, pressing his cock against whatever surface he could find, shoving his face into the bed to keep his sounds quiet and private. He didn’t touch himself, he knew that would be too much, but continued to grind his body against the mattress, handfuls of blankets filling his grip as he moved in and outwards. His whimpers became louder and more desperate, relishing being like this when nobody, besides God, he supposed, was here to tell him otherwise.

His hands, as if moved by an outside entity, fumbled in the darkness, reaching for a cabinet in his bedside table. With a small sigh of relief, he found what he was looking for: his shame. The priest took the dildo in his hands, still grinding against the mattress as he placed the length into his mouth, his whimpers stifled as he worked it enough to give it the lubrication he’d be shortly needing. With no need to think, he perked his ass into the air, parting his robes, and letting his bare skin reach the cool air as he positioned the toy. The priest mumbled to himself, a mix of prayers and something more lurid as he placed the toy at his waiting pucker.

His hole was used to it he’d used this toy almost nightly, but that moment of pressure always excited him most. His gentle moans were replaced by something louder as he pushed, the muscles in his thick body working as much as they could before the head popped past his ring and made its way inside. Father Augustine’s eyes rolled in the back of his head, feeling the length slowly making it’s way inside, feeling his orgasm rush closer and closer...