FATHER PLEASE;

LOOK AT ME 4

He put up a good fight, that much I’d admit. He meant the no he said and was going to stand on business, but even he couldn’t stand the questioning gazes from the nuns, all except my great aunt, and he finally caved.

And three days later, I had moved in and was settled. I saw it for the first time when I moved in, a one bedroom, I had neighbours who also rented from Father Aryan.

“Are you sure you like the place? I’m certain there are others more suited to your taste.” He sounded desperate as he tried to get me away from his place.

I nodded enthusiastically, I didn’t like the place at all.

“I love it. I can tell nausea green is your favourite colour.”

He sighed,

“Why are you doing this? You clearly hate the house. You can rent somewhere else.”

I cross my arms around my chest. His eyes are drawn to my chest, I see his tongue dart out and wets his lips for a second before he reminds himself who he is supposed to be and looks up, there is a triumphant smirk on my face.

“I asked around and this was the only recommendation, surely you have a good reason to fight this.”

He takes a step back as if just then realizing how close we were.

“Well it costs eight hundred dollars per month, so you can..”

“Should I wire it to you? I don’t have that much cash.”

Something flashes in his eyes, it looked familiar, but it was gone before I could discern what it was.

“You.. you are willing to pay that much for this?”

I nod.

Again, he licks his lips and this time not because of my breasts, he was doing the math in his head.

“Wire.”

I nod and pull out my phone, by the time I was done with the transfer, he was looking at me with head cocked to the side, as if seeing me through a different light.

He had rushed back with an excuse I couldn't catch.

At the end, the only thing absolutely wrong with the house was the fact that it couldn't lock from inside, the bolts were broken and the latches caught, it could only be locked from outside, I keep forgetting to get it fixed.

And in the three days I have lived here, I haven’t seen a glimpse of him, being preoccupied with cleaning and refurbishing. I even set up my work area to look similar to the one back home.

My phone ringing nearly gave me a heart attack. Nobody called me.

“Who is this?” I ask as I swipe the unknown number’s call.

“Ferocious, is that how you handle all of life's problems? Throwing yourself head first?”

I recognise Danny's low voice and sigh.

“How did you get my number?”

“I’m sure what you want to ask is if your landlord has the number as well.”

“I forgot to ask, does he even live around here?”

She snorts, it’s even worse when it’s plastered to your face.

“Of course not. You are renting his own house.”

I blink in surprise as I look around the place with the new information in mind. This was where he used to live.

“I take it he stays at the church now?” I say with a sigh, this was what I should have asked before moving in.

“Yeah.”

“Then how does living here help me?”

“You are living where he used to live. You could find something of importance and get him to come get it. Do I have to think for you?”

The gears in my head start spinning and a half baked idea start to form.

“This phone call wasn’t a waste of time. Do you have his phone number?”

“You don’t have it?”

I asked for it and he pretended not to have heard.

“Again, this phone call wasn’t a waste of time.” I say as a text of his number comes in.

“Wait, I called for something else. Let me be your roommate.”

This time I snort.

“Never.” I disconnect the call with that.

Now, time to search the house for what he must have left behind, doesn’t matter what it is.

Half hour later, I come up short, his old cupboards were empty, only old takeout menus filled the kitchen cabinets. Priests really do own nothing.

Aha! The light keeps going off and coming on at random times, this was a good reason to call your landlord.

“Blessings, Father Aryan Geller speaking.” His smooth voice comes through the speaker once it connects.

The sound send pleasant shocks down my back and all over my body.

“How is it that even your lame greeting makes me want to rip my clothes off?”

“Melanie??” He sounds severely shocked.

I liked the way my name rolled off his tongue. My nipples like it too, seeing as they pressed against my large shirt.

“How soon can you get here?”

“What??”

“I need you.”

The line goes quiet for a while.

“To check something. The lights are faulty.”

He groans, “Call a handyman or something.”

“I don’t know anyone, I only know my landlord, do you want me letting a strange man into my house? and isn’t it your responsibility to see to it that I’m not uncomfortable?”

We didn’t sign any papers that stated any responsibility. How am I even allowed to be an adult if I can’t remember to sign papers?

“The number of the handyman I trust is in the cabinet. And I’m out of town. Please don’t call this number again.” He disconnects with that.

Well, wasn’t that disappointing? What do I do now that hearing his voice got me wet, hot and bothered?

I set up my camera and lights and dressed in my work outfit, for today, a maid outfit, with the skirt stopping just below my bum, my breasts spilling out from the front of the top and my full face mask in place.

Obviously you don’t start with just spreading your legs open in front of the camera, the viewers just started to join in.

Sitting on the bed with my thighs in display, I start to move slowly, working my hand on my thighs, switching over to my fantasies.

It was Father Aryan’s hand that slowly moved up my thigh. His hand dipping in between my thighs.

I let out a whimper.

His hand traced an invisible zig zag line inside of my thighs, stopping short of my core.

He cupped me in his palm and I groaned in pleasure.

I peeled my eyes open a bit to see that the number of viewers were teetering on almost twenty million. My eyes bulged, I hadn’t gotten up to that much viewers before.

I squint as I try to read a comment.

It said, “Holy shit! Sluttyforyou had THAT priest in her video!”

I scan the room, searching for the priest and turn towards the door to my room, it was ajar. What? I am pretty sure I shut it.

I bolt out of the room, to find Father Aryan in my living room. He was trying to leave.

“Father Aryan..”

He turned to face me, his filled with desire and guilt.

“The door was opened and..” he swallowed.

“I wondered where you got that much money. You work with LonelyFans ?”

I frowned.

“You know LonelyFans , Father Geller. And LonelyFans isn’t known to the public. If you weren’t on it you wouldn’t know LonelyFans...”

My eyes widen as I watch guilt sprinkle across his expression.

“Are you.. are you on LonelyFans Father Aryan?”