Priests Gone Wild
Copyright© 2026 by Ring of Seed
Chapter 6: The Fifth Vessel – Angus’s Predestined Fall
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 6: The Fifth Vessel – Angus’s Predestined Fall - A quiet ecumenical synod. Five older priests arrive expecting doctrinal debate. They leave leaking. A young liaison with a clipboard turns the gathering into a week-long competition of who can: take the most; hold the longest; beg the loudest; leak the least. Blindfolds, guessing games, holy items as plugs, arses presented like competing portals. They pout, sabotage, crowning themselves “biggest slut” while the twink narrator owns them all. No redemption. No moral comfort.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma Mult Consensual Reluctant Gay Fiction Group Sex Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Double Penetration First Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Voyeurism
The late-afternoon panel on “Predestination and Free Will” had already run long. Delegates fidgeted in their seats. Papers rustled. The radiator hissed behind the panelling like a distant confessor. Angus MacLeod stood at the podium. Sturdy Scottish frame. Thick silver hair swept back from a high forehead. Short neat beard threaded with the last hints of auburn. Geneva Bible open before him. He spoke with quiet conviction. Voice low. Measured.
“Romans 9:20–23. Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour? The Lord shapes us according to His will. Some for glory. Some for destruction. We do not question the Potter. We submit.”
He closed the Bible. Looked out over the room. Eyes pale green. Sharp. Assessing. The others filed out. Angus lingered. Packed his notes. Bible tucked under arm. I waited until the last delegate left. Then approached.
“A compelling argument, Reverend. May I borrow your Bible a moment?”
He handed it over. No hesitation. I flipped to Romans 9. Read aloud. Voice low.
“‘Hath not the potter power over the clay... ‘ You believe that. Don’t you?”
Angus nodded once.
“I do.”
I stepped closer. Shelves high on either side. Dust motes drifted in the slanted light.
“Then you already know your place. The Potter has shaped this hole for dishonour. For my seed. For destruction.”
His throat worked. Eyes narrowed.
“That is not what the verse means.”
I rested a hand on his arm. Slid it to his waist. Palmed the growing bulge through trousers. Firm. Steady. Angus hissed. Did not pull away.
“Isn’t it? Your body already submits. Feel how hard you are. Predestined. From the foundation of the world.”
He exhaled. Sharp. Short.
“This is temptation. Not election.”
I unzipped him. Thick cock sprang free. Leaking. My hand wrapped around it. Stroked once. Long. Slow.
“Temptation is what the Potter uses to reveal His will. You were ordained for this. Your hole was made for my cock. Say it.”
Angus’s voice cracked.
“I should not...”
I knelt. Took him into my mouth. Slow. Deep. Tongue swirled the head. Tasted salt. Musk. Angus moaned. Hands fisted my hair. Hips twitched forward. I sucked harder. Hollowed cheeks. Took him to the root. Throat opened. He came hard. Predestined surges flooding my mouth. Pulse after pulse. I swallowed. Let the last spurt coat my tongue. Rose. Kissed him. Deep. Let him taste himself. Saliva mixed. Dripped from the corners of our mouths.
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