June's conflicting messages were indeed wrecking havoc with Father Murphy's emotional state. The usually well-versed and extremely prepared priest had begun to miss important appointments. Moreover, he had ceased to sleep or eat at regular intervals, judging from the dark circles under his eyes and the gaunt appearance of his hallowed out face.
Entire passages of critical sacramental rites would simply slip his mind-a malady that had been woefully apparent when he had all but muddled through the previous month's baptisms and confirmations. Needless to say, the incidents had been both embarrassing and daunting for Father Murphy, so he turned to prayer in his hour of need. Spending hours locked away in seclusion, he had begged and pleaded with his God to liberate him from the conflict raging within his heart.
Sadly, his appeals had gone unanswered as undesirable lust spread throughout his body like some virulent disease. And it was all due to the bewitching girl he had stupidly placed under his employ, a girl that from day-one had purposefully and willfully endeavored to topple him from his sanctified pulpit.
He should have fired her when he finally caught onto her game. Yet by then, it had been too late. June had already wormed her way into every aspect of Father Murphy's life because he had allowed it to happen. Besieged at every turn, his waking hours were filled with thoughts of her as he often wondered what her ruby-red lips would taste like or how her black silky hair would feel like between his fingers.
But it was at night, when he was at his most vulnerable, that he would be plagued by dreams that were so vividly erotic, that he would always wake up in a cold sweat only to find his manhood hard and throbbing.
Alone and desolate on his tiny cot, time stretched on into the night as Father Murphy would agonize over the betrayal of his mortal body. Yet, as much as he struggled against the forces of darkness that threatened to tear his soul apart, he would always succumb under the weight of immorality.
"Please forgive me," the same pitiful plea would fall from his lips every time as he felt his resolve slipping further and further away.
Mournfully, Father Murphy would turn his eyes away from the crucifix that served as a painful reminder of his calling. Then he would begin the profane ritual to relieve himself of the shameful burden aching between his legs. Soon, sighs and moans would reverberate off the bare walls of his sparsely furnished room as his hand steadily stroked the swollen flesh of his member.
"Oh, God!" he would blaspheme with a wretched groan as rage and hate flooded his soul. Rage for the one that had brought him to such a lowly state and hate for his utter lack of self-control. However, his expressions of pain and joy were prolonged by the pleasure he felt and increased in volume.
Soon, Father Murphy's sweat drenched body would tense up like the taut string of an archer's bow as his fingers continued to work in a frenetic tempo, quick, quick, quick. Clenching his jaw, he pushed himself closer and closer to the brink with every ragged breath he took as the tendons in his neck bunched under the strain.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of sweet torment, he sensed the familiar tightening in his balls that always heralded his hard-earned climax. Next, in an involuntary motion, his narrow hips and aching back would suddenly vault up from the mattress as his white hot sticky release would erupt all over his hand and stomach. And just like in previous instances of sheer bliss, June's name would always be expunged from his trembling lips like some dark, terrible secret.
Afterward, as passions cooled and senses were regained, Father Murphy would weep like a motherless babe as ignominy and guilt took turns to rebuke his sinful actions.
Doubts would then quickly set in regarding his chosen vocation, calling into question his commitment to the Church. How could he carry on with his priestly duties or continue to preach to the congregation about the virtues of purity and abstinence when he had failed to uphold his own vow of chastity?
