Locked away in his sanctum, our depraved priest succumbs to his carnal urges. His massive, unholy cock tents his cassock, yearning for release. He frees it, gasping as the cool air embraces his hot, pulsing flesh. He grips it tightly, his calloused hands working in rhythm with his fevered imagination. He envisions the forbidden fruits he's denied himself, his mind a whirlwind of sinful delights. His strokes grow frantic, his breath ragged, until he spills his sacred seed, staining his cassock with evidence of his unholy indulgence.