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Lolita fantasy phone sexLolita fantasy day dreams are driving Fr. Daley crazy. “Kylie, you’re the bane of my existence”. That’s what he said to me after I went to confession on Saturday. When I asked him what that meant, he told me to come to the

Parish Rectory at 4pm. Then he gave me 3 Hail Mary’s and 4 Our Father’s and an Act of Contrition for my penance. I left the confessional, went to a pew and said my penance. The whole time I kept thinking why he was asking me to come there just to tell me a definition of something. When I’d questioned him he told me it was something he had to show me. He made me swear not to tell anyone, under the seal of the confessional. I didn’t know what that was but it sounded important.

 
When I rang the doorbell I was right on time for our appointment. I could hear him coming down the steps. He opened the door himself. When I’d come to the “priest house” before for my mom the Housekeeper answered, so I was a little surprised. Fr. Daley invited me in and told me to follow him into his home office. When I walked by his desk my eyes got big! There was what looked like a Lolita Tumblr on his screen. I saw schoolgirls bent over, servicing “teacher”. Yes, I know I look innocent but that’s far from the fact. I knew the padre here had a Lolita fetish and I was going to give him a hot Lolita fantasy seduction to hook him.

 

A Lolita fantasy is a great way to get your claws into a mark.

 
I learned from my mom at a tender age how to use my innocent looks for my benefit. That, with a mix of Lolita fantasy vixen knowing full well what I do to you, I turned my smoldering gaze at you. Unwavering eyes spoke volumes. I sat down across from your desk and let my legs fall open, and my short plaid skirt slid up my slim, tan leg. I’d dressed with care this morning. After all, I was here to cater to your Lolita fetish addiction. I saw the way you look at me when I wear my lace miniskirts. At the long, smooth legs, trailing down to my bobby socks and pretty little pedicured feet… Lolita clothing was my favorite dress because I always have the stage. Your nostrils flared when you stared at my toes. I’m pretty sure you don’t know how easy you are to read.
 
“Forgive me Father, but we’re gonna sin” I told you, and you were speechless. Without a word I pressed my firm barely legal body against the quivering cleric and I felt his will give way. He was a man before anything. This entire Lolita fantasy that he and I were living out here in his great room was destined to be. He knew what I was when he picked me up. Isn’t that how the parable goes?