I’m not religious, but when I was nineteen I was struck with an illness that landed me in the hospital. I was in a coma for a week and heavily medicated, so my mother called her priest to come visit and pray for me. The medication rendered me completely helpless; I couldn’t move any part of my body easily, but I could tell what was going on around me.
The first day I can remember Father Paul visiting, I was groggy and laying there with my eyes closed. I heard someone breathing in a strange way so I struggled to open my eyes a little, and couldn’t believe what I saw! Father Paul was praying in a whisper for me while he stroked his penis! He had no idea I was aware of what he was doing and in a couple of minutes he lifted his robe and shot his load on my blanket and hospital gown. He then blessed me, and quietly left the room.
I didn’t know what to think! I was a little frightened, but also very wet and excited and wondered if he’d return. Two days later I was taking a nap; I had just received my injection for pain and Father Paul came back in the room with the nurse, saying, “I need to pray for her, please make sure we aren’t disturbed.” I pretended to be asleep and hoped he would lift his robe enough so I could see his cock and watch him squeeze and play with it. But he shocked me again by very slowly reaching under my blanket and gently parting my hospital gown, resting his fingers on my clit for at least a full minute without motion. I guess to see if I would wake up…When he felt safe to continue, he barely started rubbing my clit and I heard the rustling of his robe. I saw him starting to stroke his cock while rubbing my clit, and the pain and agony of keeping perfectly still and quiet while I came!
He started visiting every other day until I got out of the hospital.I couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing him again, so I made a plan to go see him at the church…
(Image Source: Wicked Studio)