Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Father O'Mara's Blog 1 : (C) Hamilton Joyce. Father O'Mara poured himself a glass of claret, good stuff not like the cheap rubbish he used for Communion wine, and lit his evening cigar. A man who believed in moderation he limited himself to one bottle and one Havana a day: moderation in all things! Even sex. He had a rule that one boy or girl in any twenty four hours was quite sufficient, though he knew that was one he had on occasions broken when a teenage or pre-teen body or angelic face was just too tempting. A man of habit, he kept a regular blog of his personal and religious life, maintaining it on an anonymous server that claimed to be in one of the Russian successor republics....might be anywhere though as long as it could not be tracked back to his laptop! He had a quick look at comments readers had posted about his last report, young Roger after catechism three days before. There were nine comments. As usual when Father O'Mara had written about a boy "Cyril" suggested he should dress the boy in open-crotch knickers and seamed stockings. Father O'Mara smiled: not one of his own kinks but a common thene in confessional. "The Major" wanted him to spank the boy. Ditto. "Pro Bono" as usual accused him of being an imposter, an atheist who just wanted too discredit the Holy Church. Father O'Mara smiled and wondered again how he had managed to find a site so well hidden that even a lifelong pedo like himself had only come across it, again by questionning in the confessional. Time to write up today's pleasures.... FATHER O'MARA'S BLOG: SUNDAY DECEMBER 12th. It's miserable weather here at the moment but there's nothing like a pretty little eleven year old girl to warm your heart. Those who follow this blog will be well aware that most of my pedo sex comes my way as a result of the Confessional: it is surprising perhaps that so many parents enjoy their children in the fullest possible way, given the type of Parish I have been lucky enough to have been called to. You may take it from me that there is as much incest in the wealthy leafy suburbs as in any trailer-trash estate, and in my experience the boys and girls are fitter, cleaner and much livelier sex-companions. But enough of that, except to say it was Maja Anderson's confession last Saturday that tipped me off. I was sure it was her because of the now very slight Swedish accent, and in any case I have trained myself to be good at recognising voices.... for obvious reasons. Among the usual petty sins there was one very interesting admission. Her husband was fucking their daughter, and she was turned on by watching them, excited to such an extent that she encouraged him and demanded he fuck little Sara before fucking his wife! What an opportunity for your pedo-Priest! I told her, of course, that if the child was happy and enjoyed the experience there was little harm in it. It was a minor sin at worst, and perhaps no sin at all when it was in one's own family. It was, of course, against the law with nowadays terribly harsh criminal sanctions on men and women who enjoyed, in the fullest way possible, their love for their children, and she would be wise not to admit it to anyone but me, her regular Confessor. But all this hoo-ha about underage sex was very modern, very new: why you only have to go back to our great grandparents to find people actually expecting girls to be sexually active at Sarah's age. She sounded relieved! After Mass this morning I stopped her and her daughter at the porch of the church... no sign of Mr Anderson of course. So few men in my congregation nowadays, like all churches, pews full of women and children. We chatted for two minutes when, happily, the skies opened with a nasty mixture of rain and sleet. I suggested the two of them shelter a few minutes in my vestry.... it would soon pass, a spiteful little shower. It didn't! The rain just got heavier and with more and more ice in it. After about twenty minutes of chit chat while I was my most affable and, frankly, enjoying looking at little Sara's blonde pony-tail, blue eyes, full red lips, imagining the delights hidden beneath her tight cotton top and inside that faded denim skirt, Mrs Anderson annonced that weather or no weather she just had to go. She had to go to Tesco to buy a take-away meal for tonight and then she had arranged to have tea with Mrs Wilson. She wished she had brought the car now! "Oh mum! Do we have too? It's so boring while you just talk at Mrs Wilson's, and we'll get soaked going there and Tesco's!" She looked so lovely as she pouted. She may have been only eleven but she already had the teenage girl's bolshie attitudes and independence.... So I suggested the girl could stay here in the dry while her mother spent the afternoon as she wished. I knew how to keep Sara entertained! I caught a knowing look as Mrs Anderson's eyes met mine and she smiled as if to say "I bet you do, Father O'Mara". The words were unspoken but she knew I knew she knew, and of course she did not mind. "You stay here with Father O'Mara, Sarah, and be good and do everything the nice man asks you. Everything! You hear me?' I helped the lady on with her coat and she said she would be back in a couple of hours... again that knowing look in her blue, swedish eyes. I sat down again in my old armchair while Sara was perched on a wooden chair swinging her legs a bit petulently, clearly not impressed with spending the afternoon with a tiresome cleric either. Well, I knew ways of making her afternoon less than boring. "Do you like Turkish Delight, Sarah?" "What's that?" "Bring that little box over here, the one on the table in the corner." She stood beside me looking at the harem scene on the box, and I told her to open it and try one of the sweets, telling her I liked to bite it in half first. She loved it and I pulled her towards me as she chewed on it seating her in my lap. I told her she was a very beautiful girl and her daddy must be very proud of her, and did she like it when he cuddled her, did she sit on his lap like this? There was no answer, and I told her that I knew it was a secret between her and her mummy and daddy what they liked to do together but that I knew a lot of secrets and knew how to keep secrets too. I knew that her daddy liked to cuddle her while her mummy watched, and that it must be lovely when he held her like this..... And I knew all the other lovely things he liked to do to her as well..... I had a hand on her thigh just under the hem of her skirt, really at mid thigh. She had lovely legs, so long and slender, so smooth. The winter boots were not so sexy though! my hand slipped up her thigh till the side of it rested in her panty-guarded crotch. Damp! That was not careless pissing as we had been here or in the church for over an hour: she was aroused, at least a bit! "Is it a bit lumpy where you're sitting? You know what that is, Sara?" A lovely girlish giggle and then "Of course I do. My daddy always goes hard when I sit in his lap too. I don't mind...." "Your daddy is so lucky to have such a pretty girl to play with. I wish I had a daughter to play with and love." "You're not allowed to get married are you? That's a shame I think." The lovely little thing pitied this lonely old man.... a good start! I moved my hand so my fingers were over the damp patch, feeling the fold in her knickers outlining the shape of her labia. Lovely! Her legs opened slightly, so slightly that I might not have noriced if my hand had not been cradling her mons, fingers on her cunt-lips, slightly, but no doubt an invitation either involuntary or deliberate. I did not care which! It was an invitation of that I was sure, and I slipped my hand under the elasticted leg of her panties so my fingers were now on her bare flesh.... hairless as I had hoped and expected. This time she opened her legs even more for me, and sighed as I slid my index finger inside the outer lips, to find her nice and juicy as I had also hoped and expected. I circled her little nub, and then took it beween finger and thumb and squeezed it, pulling at it before returning to rub up and down the slippery inner lips. I was very aware of the vaginal opening each time my finger passed over it, and also the little gasp she gave each time. "you can put your finger in if you want, Father. I like that when....." She stopped. "It's all right, little angel, I know a lot of secrets: I know you like it when your daddy does this for you!" As I spoke I slid my index finger into her vagina, still little-girl tight despite her daddy frequently fucking her.... according to his wife's cofessional. Not only tight, juicy and the walls so smooth and muscular as they gripped my finger. I slipped my free hand inside her over-tight cotton top from underneath. At eleven she had only the slightest of mounds where her breasts would be, but her nipples were sharp and hard, and suprisingly long between my thumb and forefinger. In another year she would have the ideal breasts for this old pedo .... small, firm, rounded. In the meantime I could enjoy the budding promise in the knowledge that in the fullness of time I would have something to hold onto while we fucked, something to kiss and suck! And several years of pleasure from her before she reached the age of fifteen, at which time I lost interest in the girl (or the boy) and left them, experienced and skilled in the arts of love, to enjoy the vigour of children their own age. Or lovers who while legally pedophiles, were not really in my reckoning. Lord! She was quick! The randy little piece was coming already, offering her lips to me as the orgasm started. I kissed her open mouthed, my tongue invading her while my finger fucked her cunt and my thumb pressed on her clitoris. Any yell she might have made was stifled by my tongue and lips, and I let mt finger rest while her cunt gripped and released as spasms shook her body. Lord! She certainly knew how to cum! "Do you like chocolate, angel?" "I love it, Father." "There's two boxes in the cupboard on the middle shelf. Bring them over and put them on the little table here." While she got the chocolates I quickly pulled my heavy black robes up over my head and off. I kicked my shoes off. I was wearing... as well as my socks.... a little black posing pouch which just about contained my balls but not all of my rampant cock, which, however, was trapped by the satin upright against my belly. She stood in front of me looking. "Yours is not like daddy's at all. His has got skin at the end. Yours has that sort of pointy mushroom...." "They cut my skin off when I was a baby." "Why?" "They used to do it a lot. Does it matter?" "No. I think it looks better without that skin. And it's longer than daddy's too." My good friend Father Burnelli calls mine a "pedo's cock", meaning it might have been designed to penetrate virgin pussies, male or female. She stood in front of me looking longingly at the boxes. "Go on, angel. The ones in the top box are lovely." They were those confections of chocolate with cherry brandy inside. I'm a great believer in a drop of alcohol for children during sex. It removes any tension or fright, releases inhibitions, and extends the time it takes them to cum while at the same time increasing the violence of the eventual orgasms. Mustn't be more than one or two of those chocs though: no good if she goes to sleep! "Go on, have another one, but then we'll take your clothes off so I can see you as you really are...." Standing there in her naked beauty Sara would have tempted a saint, let alone a confirmed lover of youth like myself. She would have breasts in a few month's time and you could see the little mounds forming, not puppy fat but the beginnings of her teenage bosom: the aureoles were still small, pink and pretty, with surprisingly big, erect nipples. Her legs and arms were not skinny, but still little-girl slender, and her belly was just a tad rounded, but like her bum looked firm, no flab there! But my eyes were drawn to her pussy, of course: mons surprisingly pronounced, still hairless, smooth cunt-lips slightly puffed up from my fingering, and an intriguing gap between her thighs just under her crotch. She was lovely and my cock was twitching in anticipation. "Do you want a choccy, Father?" "No. What I want my little angel, is to Kiss, lick and suck your clitty until you cum: would you like that?" I knew from her mother's confessional that she did! "Oh, please. I love it...." I picked her up, cradled easily in my arms as she was no weight, gave her the second box of (no-alcohol) to hold, and carried her to the back room, kicking the door open with my stockinged foot. It closed itself behind us as I laid her on the double bed and myself beside her. Straight to business, I lay head-to-toe with her, clasped her hips, and kissed her pussy enjoying the scent of aroused pre-teen with its overlay of the lavender soap she had used earlier to wash. Her lips were plumped by our earlier play and my pointed tongue slipped between them, so warm and wet inside. I pulled her lips apart with finger and thumb and applied my open mouth to her whole, open cunt and then licked up and down the crack, my tongue passing over her hard little pearl. She squealed and I felt her fingers in my hair, holding my head in place. I nibbled on her erect clitoris and her thighs closed, clamping my face between delightful teenage flesh. I found her nipple with my left hand and tweaked it with an immediate reaction from her whole body. I rolled it between finger and thumb while I sucked her pussy. She was egging me on, encouraging me not to stop, but with my delightful ear muffs I could scarcely hear her, and in any case had no intention of stopping as I licked up and down and round and round. I let my pointed tongue enter her vagina and felt her thighs grip my head even tighter, her hands pressing my face down into her crotch. Her juices were really flowing now... surprising in a girl so young and testimony to the training given her by her father (and probably her mother too? I must ask her at the next confessional if she too is having sex with her daughter...). I licked harder and faster, figure of eights around her clit, pulling at it too with my lips, stretching it. And then I slid my index finger into her: tight, smooth, muscular vagina walls gripping it. This was going to be a delightful fuck in a minute or two. I finger fucked her while I sucked, and she came again. Her little qsueals and grunts were muffled by her thighs over my ears, but there was no mistaking the movements of her hips and the spasms gripping my finger. I let her cum, and then, just as the spasms were dying away, I broke from her grip, and lay on top of her crushing her into the mattress with my cock resting in her slit. No hands, I pushed and entered her, my "pedo's cock" with its narrow, pointed knob as effective as it always is at invading teenage pussies (male or female!): I heard her sigh, her arms around me, hands on my back, and felt her legs close around my back as well. I was a bit concerrned about my weight on her slender little-girl body, but need not have worried as she had turned her face sideways to breath and I could now hear clearly how good it was for her. This first fuck, first of many hopefully, was not one to linger over for too long, and I managed to control my cock and balls until I felt her coming yet again. Her cunt had gripped my finger, but how much sexier this tight clasp on my cock, making me really work my hips to force it in and out through those fit, teenage muscles: I seldom fucked the many mature, married women who would be available to any reasonably good-looking priest: as compared to the vigorous and above all tight vagina's and anuses of teenagers, these matrons are all slack and much too open for real pleasure. And I do love the slender limbs and still-boyish hips and bums of both sexes, more than the broad and often flabby arses of their parents! So, as soon as I felt her cunt beginning to spasm and her finger nails dig into my back, heard her gutteral ooohs and aaahs, little panting sqeaks and grunts, I let fly with my spunk, filling her lovely honey-pot with my honey! There was still time for the randy little girl, whose sexual appetite belied her angelic looks, to lick my cock clean and then hard again. 'My daddy likes me to do this for him after he's cum.... but he doesn't get hard again like you do. Do you want to do me again, Father, or do you want me to suck you. I sometimes suck my daddy off, so I know how to do it....' My favourite position for oral sex with young girls is to sit astride them so I can feel their nipples, or if they are a bit older their forming-tits pressed into me, and shag them in their mouths. So I did just that, holding her head in my hands, sometimes slipping through them her blonde hair was so fine and shiny-silky, letting my cock ram in and out of her lips and deep into her mouth. She had her hands up around my hips, sometimes feeling my bum, sometimes even inside my bum-crease. I told her I was coming, giving her the chance of letting it splash over her face if she preferred. But no! She wanted my cum, and her hands around my bum held me in place as she opened her eyes to watch my face. Her eyes were soft and loving, affectionate, sultry, and somehow admiring as I went at her faster. A finger rested on my anus.... and then, dry, penetrated perhaps to the first knuckle. This obscenity from one so young and angelic pushed me over the edge and I filled her mouth with cum. She did not gag, and swallowed all of my four thrusting squirts. Afterwards we kissed..... I like the taste of cum in a girl's mouth! By the time we cleaned up and dressed it was time for her mother to get back from her shopping and tea-party. 'Yes, Mrs Anderson, Maja was very good, and we have got along swimmingly. She is a lovely girl, so willing, and a real credit to you and Mr Anderson. But I think she could use a few more lessons from her Priest, so would it be in order for her to visit after school once a week, perhaps Thursdays on her way back from school?' 'What does Sara think?' 'Oh, please, mummy, I'd so like that.....' FIN for now: further blogs to follow.