Dear Holy Mother, what did I do to deserve this temptation? Here I am, sitting in the pews, my wife’s angelic voice filling the cathedral with joyous hymns, while across the aisle that filthy strumpet Cyn makes eyes at me, her tongue gliding suggestively over her blood-red lips.

The way she squirms in her seat, hiking up her skirt to expose milky thighs, I know exactly what that wanton slut desires. She craves my cock like a drug, yearns to feel my holy seed pumping into her sinful womb.

During the Eucharist, I see her palm herself through the fabric of her dress. Uttering blasphemous moans, she pleasures herself, not caring how her lewd display offends the house of God.

I feel my resolve weakening, my manhood swelling with carnal need. I excuse myself and duck into a shadowy alcove. Minutes later, a rustling skirt heralds Cyn’s arrival. The wicked temptress drops to her knees and frees my throbbing cock from my trousers.

With a wink, she wraps her lips around my shaft and begins suckling, defiling the sacred space with the wet slurping sounds of her debauchery. I grip her hair and plunge into her mouth, not caring how her gagging moans echo through the cathedral. My wife continues heratorio with a smile, never suspecting my depravity. I spurt my essence down the cock-hungry whore’s gullet, soiling the altar with our incestuous sin.

Trembling, I slip back to my seat, Cyn’s kisses still burning my lips. As the choir raises their voice in holy praise, I silently vow this perversion will be our secret. But I know it is futile. For in Cyn’s eyes, I see the insatiable hunger of a demon in human form. And I am powerless to resist her unholy charms again.