all priest!simon thinks is that a dumb thing like you needs to be bent over his kitchen table after found at a strip club, hoping to convert you to christianity and make this gross, little whore modest and obedient.
don't ask why a priest was at the strip club, that's not important. what's important is the way you locked eyes with him, dancing around in a pole in skimpy clothing, or therefore lack of, as the only thing protecting a sliver of your decency that you had left was a pair of panties and bra.
he'd force your face into a bible, possibly one about submission but you're too fucked-out to even read one line. simon's cock is utterly driving you crazy, and simon can't tell if you're that much of a whore, or if it's the aphrodisiac he slipped into your drink that's causing you to become so, so wet and slick for him. he can't help but rock his hips into you, with his huge cock stuffing you full and his hot, sticky cum oozing out from the sides of your cunny.
the empty glasses of wine remain on the coffee table over to your left, but you're too drunk and horny to think about anything other than the way his dick moves into your greedy hole, filling you up with his white release. he fucks deep into you, still wearing his black suit, with drops of cum stained onto his trousers.
“dirty thing--god, wish ya’ were more obedient, so i could manipulate your dumb head into doin’ whatever i want. lust is a sin, y’know? was usin’ this as a punishment, but even you’re enjoyin’ get used like a fleshlight, hm?”
you pant and wriggle, your skimpy dress rolled up past your waist, the sides ripped from his roughness. your panties are lace, pushed to the side to allow him to slide inside again and again -- however many times he likes.
he'll blame it on you for getting him to commit a sin; lust. that you were seducing him, that now you need to come over every saturday to pray with him, and maybe something more after a few glasses shared with him...