Tag Archive: priest with a big penis


I met M in the summer of 2010 on an online dating site. Of course, he didn’t tell me (or anyone) that he was an ordained Roman Catholic Priest at that time. We struck up a conversation and within 2 weeks decided to meet for coffee.

I knew I liked him immediately and he seemed to be drawn to me as well. On our second date, after pressing for a little more information about him, other than what he’d told me (he was currently in graduate school), he finally revealed his “profession.” I was definitely shocked, but it didn’t bother me.

I was raised Jewish and live a very open-minded type of life. I think people deserve to be happy and I believe that God would want us to be. I don’t think I had ever met a priest before and I knew nothing about Catholicism other than whatever I had garnered from news and popular culture. Anyway, M’s profession didn’t stop me from wanting to get to know him more, although he warned me that he was a year away from finishing school and wouldn’t be able to maintain a relationship after that. 

At first, I was alright with the idea of a short-term fling. I really liked him and was attracted to him. He obviously felt the same about me, but he did maintain some boundaries to the physical side of the relationship, at least at first. A few months in was when the problem really started. I was definitely falling in love with him and I knew he was doing the same, even though he kept insisting this relationship had a very definite end-date when he graduated. Nevertheless, we kept seeing one another. It was probably both the dumbest thing and the smartest thing I have ever done. While he was in school (thousands of miles from his hometown) getting further education in a specialized area for his future job, we maintained relative anonymity. My friends didn’t question what he “did” outside of being a grad student and no one in his world knew about me. 

After a year, we were definitely in too deep to stop but the time came for him to go back to his hometown. I couldn’t drop everything and follow him, so we maintained a long-distance relationship for 2 more years. We did try to end it at one point but neither of us wanted that. We would visit every few months but we wrote and talked on the phone daily. Throughout this time, he continued to insist that he could never leave the priesthood but I continued to love him despite that and couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. 

Around the 3-year mark, I decided I wanted a change of pace (and careers) and I moved out to be closer to him. We ended up buying a house about 20 minutes away from his home and parish, but over state lines so that I lived in a different diocese and he could come visit on the weekends, fairly anonymously. We lived this secret and double life quite well, even though it was hard on me both to see him so little – as you know, his job as a priest was very demanding – and to have to hide myself and our relationship from others who knew him. One of the hardest parts was not being able to spend holidays together. He had church and family obligations and I was alone, thousands of miles away from my family. Over time, I urged him to consider leaving active ministry, even to just take a break and figure things out, but it just wasn’t the right time and I felt in my heart that if I didn’t pressure him, he’d eventually come around. I had no doubt he loved me very much. The question was just always, did he love me “enough?” 

Another question was “how long can we keep this up?” We had a few close calls with being found out but we managed to keep our relationship a secret, even while living so close and spending so much time together. Until the Spring of 2016. That’s when everything changed. His Associate Pastor lived next door and had been noticing my car around regularly when I would come over for dinner or to visit M. Around April or May of 2016, almost 3 years after I had moved out there to live near M, and nearly 6 years into our relationship, this man decided to voice his concern to M’s church superiors. We don’t think he suspected the full truth of what was going on but he said he was concerned that M was becoming too close to a woman. 

In June of 2016, M was called to speak to his Vicar General, second in charge after the Bishop. The Vicar General relayed the concerns that had been brought to him by the Associate Pastor and M recalls having the realization that this was “it.” His moment of truth. He could easily have talked his way out of the situation and reassured his superior that nothing was happening, but he decided to come clean and reveal our long-time relationship and his choice to continue it. 

A few more conversations later, within about a week’s time, M was relieved of his duties and moved his few belongings into the house we owned across town. We lived together for a year before having our civil wedding and it took one more year for all of M’s paperwork to get fully completed to allow him to marry in the church. We had our Catholic wedding in the summer of 2018, almost exactly 8 years from our first date. 
Despite our happy ending, I don’t want to downplay how hard the entire thing was.

The relationship had very high highs and very low lows. There was nothing fun or exciting about being a secret. I often worried that M didn’t love me enough to make our relationship real, but I did have some deep faith or intuition that he did and I just had to be patient. I would never recommend this type of relationship to anyone else. I could have just as easily been heartbroken and shattered if M were not as good of a person as he is. If you are reading this and are in love with a priest, don’t ever be fooled into thinking that he will easily give up his vocation to be with you. I know the reality is that most never will. 

We are approaching our 2nd wedding anniversary and 9th anniversary of being together and I still love him as much as ever (possibly more). So I have no regrets, only gratitude that I get to tell a story that ends in our happiness. M is a braver and stronger person than he ever thought, and over the past couple of years we have made an amazing life for ourselves. I truly believe that God brought us together and I’m grateful to have found my soulmate, despite how difficult it was to get to this point. 

I struggled even writing this, never mind trying to summarise almost 16 years of my on and off friendship with this person. I wanted to share my story to let others know that they’re not alone (because for a while, I felt very alone and as if no one could understand). If I’m being honest, I’m looking for advice and a resolution too. My name is MA and my priest is J.

I met J through a family friend; they were both attending seminary at the time. I was attending a mass for vocations and after, I went down to the church hall for refreshments. It was then that J caught my eye across the room and right away, I wanted to know: “who is HE?” I cannot tell you how silly I felt when my friend introduced him as a fellow seminarian (he was not dressed in his collar). We talked for a while and I was struck by his smile, his dimples, and his pure excitement about becoming a priest, as well as his commitment to our faith and God. Frankly, I was blown away by the sheer chemistry and energy radiating off him and between us. For the record, it was the first (and last) time someone had ever caught my eye in that way. Regardless, I didn’t think we’d ever see each other again.

The following summer, he was placed at my Mom’s church as an intern. Right away, we clicked. We often joined other parishioners for coffee, attended masses for vocations around my state, and he even met a few of my closest friends and family. At this point, I wasn’t thinking of J as anything other than a mentor of sorts, someone who I could talk about my faith with. He also seemed proud of my work in the healthcare field and we discussed helping others a lot. He shared he had been engaged prior to entering the priesthood and had needed to take a break from seminary in order to discern whether he was on the right path. J admitted he struggled with celibacy and the thought of not being a father.

By the end of that summer, we were even closer & I felt sad that I was losing my friend as he headed back to the seminary. I was also a little shocked and confused as to why he hadn’t yet asked me for my email (no cells back then!). He waited literally until minutes before leaving and heading back to ask me for my contact info. I wish I had seen the confusion I felt then for what it was— a foreshadowing of feelings that would characterize and haunt our relationship.

We continued to email at least weekly during his school year and then he started calling me at work. It happened so often, that I actually got in trouble. Not to mention, every time he called, he would say it was “Father J,” making the poor receptionist have a heart attack, thinking that something bad had happened to someone in my family. I was there for his transitional deaconate ceremony and celebrated with him after. He introduced me to his family and I became friends with some of his family members, often emailing them on a regular basis.

His last year of seminary, J. treated me much like the previous year, except our contact greatly increased. A few months before his ordination, he confided that he “wasn’t so sure he wanted to do this and that his biggest fear was getting to his mid-40’s and realizing that he wanted to be a husband and a father.” At this point, I was starting to become physically attracted to J. and finding him working his way into my thoughts more and more. I struggled between the desires of my heart, being a good Catholic and friend, and giving him unbiased advice. I tried to give the best advice I could, encouraging him to take a good, hard look at his motivations. J. basically summed it up as: “My parents want me to be a priest. Besides, what else would I do? I didn’t go to college.” At the time, he neglected to tell me he was a trained healthcare professional himself.

In the end, he followed through with being ordained and it was one of the proudest, yet hardest, days of my life (it still is). I knew how he had struggled with the academic work, his emotions, but persevered because of his strong faith. As he lied prostrate, it felt like a knife to my heart. I love my faith and God, so I felt guilty and ashamed for feeling this way. It was that very day, probably the proudest day of his life, that I realized I was in love with him. The irony was not lost on me.

J ended up in his first placement as a parochial vicar not far from where I live. He invited me to his first mass and told me that my being there helped to decrease his nerves. He also asked me to continue to attend mass there and I found no problem with this, as I was dating a man from the area and often spent my weekends there. J was aware of this and made it obvious he didn’t approve. Despite the tension that my having a significant other created, our friendship continued to strengthen and we started to create special moments together. One snowy Xmas Eve J. begged me not to leave, as he was “lonely” and estranged from some of his family at that time. I helped to advocate for a family member of his when insurance would no longer cover her chemotherapy and filled out numerous amounts of paperwork to get her additional resources. Meanwhile, my faith was growing stronger than ever, but so were my feelings for J. Looking back on it now, I find it odd how I never dreamed that he could possibly reciprocate those feelings; I was brainwashed and saw him as a priest, not a human being. A person not only who is capable of love, but might even be desiring it. It was only until J started acting funny that I questioned his intentions, but immediately dismissed them. He insisted I have a confession with him when I thought it was a conflict of interest and fought with me about not attending a pilgrimage to Italy with his church (I couldn’t afford it at the time, he offered to pay for me). After mass on a beautiful spring day, he offered to walk me to my car after we spent hours chatting and laughing after mass. A red flag went up; I found it strange because we were in a suburban, safe neighborhood, with my car tucked safely in the church parking lot, in broad daylight. However, I was used to his being courteous, and he always walked me to my car but it was always in the presence of fellow priests. I started to feel funny as I loaded my things into my car, only to turn and find him leaning against my door, in close proximity to me. I started to feel that awkwardness when a first date is ending and you don’t know if the guy is going to kiss you or not. I didn’t know if he was going to do or say something, but I knew whatever was coming would change things for both of us forever, so I literally pushed him away, said goodbye, and drove off. I remember, still to this day, seeing his face in my rearview and cried the whole way home. It was the last time I would see him for a decade. There are no words to describe how I felt that day, other than I loved him so much, I wanted to protect him. I also didn’t want to hurt God. I thought of J over the years and wondered if my gut intuition was right regarding his feelings for me and what he was going to do that day or if I totally misread the whole thing.

To make an already long story longer (kudos if you read this far), I ended up lapsing and not going to church for 6 years. I would be lying if I said my love for J wasn’t part of it. However, my faith and spirituality never faltered. It is my main coping mechanism despite chronic health issues and frankly, it’s what keeps me going. About a year ago, I started to get serious about returning to church and yearned for a place where I wouldn’t be judged, feel comfortable, and not be forced by the pastor to get involved behind the scenes in various roles (this has been an issue for me in almost every church I’ve attended). I looked up J to see where he was and found he was assigned to a parish in the same city I work. I attempted to contact him via parish email to break the ice and make it less awkward for us both if I decided to show up. Naively, I figured that so many years had passed; there would be no harm in seeing him again. I assumed he’s now an experienced pastor, that I have grown leaps and bounds and am pretty good at detecting red flags (that’s what happens folks when you’ve been dating since 15!), and that my feelings for him had leveled out because of lack of contact. I even prayed continuously and agonized over my decision. I prepared myself for seeing someone who might have changed in ways I would not appreciate, expected him to be different, even prepared myself that he might have a significant other (yes, we all know the reality). Nothing could’ve prepared me for what I’ve dealt with since my return.

He claims he never got my email message and within minutes of sitting down at my first mass there, I realized my instincts and gut feelings so many years ago were spot on. He turned pale, then beet red, stumbling over his words, hands shaking when he gave me communion, fidgeting when sitting on the altar. I have seen him drop the Eucharist once or twice and it was always the person before me in line. I cannot tell you how awful I felt, as if I was causing him to feel uncomfortable on his own turf and screw up his at his job.

I have never had a more awkward conversation, as I attempted to explain my presence to him. He couldn’t even look me in the eye and reprimanded me for disappearing all those years ago and not telling him why. I think he sees my leaving years ago as rejection, not the protection I intended. However, he never contacted me to see if everything was ok either. I was struck how emotionally immature he seemed, able to interact with parishioners quite easily, but not with me. For some reason with me it seems different; it’s hurtful and painful. J insists he “likes having me there and it’s not awkward for him,” but I don’t feel he’s being honest. There are days he’s friendly and like old J I knew, we laugh and talk with no issues. Then there are others where he ignores me and I don’t know how to act myself. I have always felt comfortable talking to a wide range of people, especially males; I am a tomboy and have mostly male friends. I talk and listen to people for a living, so to be struggling like this is a foreign concept for me. People always tell me that I am easy to talk to, that they feel like they’ve known me for years, and can trust me with anything. It says something that I don’t know how to act when I’m around J.

Over the summer, I started taking J’s unwillingness to open up personally. I also noticed his friendliness and closeness to another female parishioner our age, who is married and whose husband holds a highly respected job. She is actively involved in the parish in a variety of roles and donates a substantial amount of money to the church. I have seen him engage in a way that I think is inappropriate for a pastor to engage with a parishioner but then I think: “am I just biased? Is it purely the fact that she gives money?” I am aware the church is a business. I don’t find that a comfort though—it makes me think less of him and get angry. If money is what he bases his friendships on, I find it sad and hypocritical. I can’t afford to give thousands to my church, but it doesn’t mean I love God any less. I also don’t want to think of the alternative, that she’s special to him in a way she shouldn’t be.

I struggle to understand why he has no issue interacting with this woman but gets nervous and discombobulated around me. I feel jealous and frustrated, as if I’m on an emotional roller coaster. I’m beginning to think we weren’t as close as I thought.

As soon as I pull away emotionally and get to a good place, it seems as if J can almost sense it, and he’ll do something to pull me back in. One day, it was telling how he was struggling. I didn’t want to talk personal issues in front of other parishioners, so I told him to text or call, whatever he felt comfortable with if he needed someone to talk to. It’s something I would do for any friend in need. He’s never once texted, emailed, or called. It’s disconcerting when we used to talk every single week, almost daily. I began thinking if it weren’t for Mary and the Eucharist, I’d consider becoming Protestant. I struggled over the summer to see how my faith could continue to grow in this church, but I didn’t feel like leaving either. I like the people, feel comfortable for the most part, and was doing fine when I got to a peaceful place about J. Finally, I got to a good place emotionally and it lasted for a few months. I was proud of myself.

That all changed. After recently experiencing a serious trauma, suddenly nothing mattered—not J, not this other woman—nothing was as important and crucial to my well-being as God and my faith. I am so thankful and grateful not only to be alive, but to have come to see it as a learning experience that readjusted my priorities. J was involved in my healing process and was honest; he admitted it scared him to see me that way. He told me that “out of all people, you don’t deserve this.”

Since then, I have noticed J. attempting to connect with me, but his immaturity and arrested development often get in the way and act as an obstacle in growing our friendship. He does small things, often within homilies or during prayers that I know are geared towards me. At first, I found myself thinking: “am I narcissistic? Egocentric? I think that was meant for me!” But then a smile or direct eye contact will reassure me, yes, I’m not crazy. I still find my mind drifting off to him, like a school girl with a crush. I feel sad, confused, angry, worried, and alone; it’s not exactly as if I can talk to just anyone about this. There are times, though, when I’m talking to him or praying with him, that I feel such joy and love, love for not only J, but an overwhelming love and closeness to God. One of J’s smiles can send me floating for days.

That being said for me, knowledge is power. I have actually sought out support groups online and in the process, read research and many books about this issue. Yes, women love priests. Some because it’s a challenge, some because they “lack self-esteem,” others because they love the priest not for his role, but because of the amazing man beneath the collar. I fall in this last category; I love J. for who he is, not WHAT he is. Yes, I’ve said it; I’m in love with a priest. It feels freeing to finally say those words. And I am no longer naïve to the fact that priests often love a woman back. I have rationalized my awareness that this man may indeed love me back for way too long. The key is he’ll never love me back in the way I deserve or need. I’ve come to understand that there is no happy ending in this situation. Will I ever tell J how I feel? Probably not, although if he directly calls me out on it, I wouldn’t lie. I don’t plan on leaving his church any time soon either, but don’t have plans to pursue more than a friendship. Believe me, if J ever tells me he’s leaving the priesthood, I’d be the first one (in a long line of women I’m sure) ready and eager to pursue a relationship, one that we both deserve and would be on equal footing.

Meanwhile, I plan on devoting some of my energy to advocating for the married priest movement. Why shouldn’t priests be able to marry? I find it ironic, as they speak about love and counsel married couples. Should a man who has chosen to spread the word of God be “punished” by an inability to experience God’s greatest gift—love? There is no way that anything that involves love can be a sin because it is of God. Period.

In ending, thank you for reading my story. It is because of the courage of the many folks who contribute to this blog that I was finally able to tell my story. I know many of you will relate to me and support me, but I’m also aware that others may think my feelings are wrong and am prepared for possible criticism. If you’re in the latter group, I only ask you to think of how it felt when you first experienced love: the excitement, the joy, and the confusion at times. Be kind to one another and may God continue to bless us all on our individual journeys.

Merry Christmas to All! Readers, let’s be charitable by finding the right phrase or writing, to help this lady.

Falling in love is not just for the young ones. Even falling in love with a priest is not always a story between a young priest and a young woman, as this story illustrates. This is Jacqueline who is sharing her story with all our readers. She is first telling her story. In the second part, I’ll ask her some questions.

I think I just have to share this story. I am still shocked by it. It goes like this: I met this new priest about four years ago. We clicked instantly. He is now 48 years and I am now fifty. I was never married because I never wanted to, however I was so attracted to this foreign priest who came to our isles. Yes we kissed but there was never any sexual relations because I believed I should not be the one to do that with a priest [old school thinking]. After four years into the friendship he was transferred to another parish. He still visited my home once a week. Eighteen months in this parish he called me to tell me that he was leaving the country because of a situation [a sexual relation with a seventeen years and nine months girl and to please forgive him]. He said he had ignored her several times but eventually one day it happened.

One month afterwards, the girl started calling him and telling him dirty things when he was seen speaking with other women. When he told her about it, the girl told her parents. The result was that the priest had to flee the country like a scared puppy, never to return. All the parents wanted was that he would leave the country. We were in contact every step of his journey and I knew his agony.

Parishioners never knew the true reason why he was leaving. However, from his religions order (eg Franciscans, Jesuits, Carmelites etc…), where I knew some priests, I was able to find out that the young girl took a ready made meal at times to the priest. On that fateful day, realising that the priest was intoxicated, she began stripping and a sexual relationship took place. One priest told me that she was a problem girl and that it was evident in her messages e.g are you f***ing her?

I told him that I loved him as he left. A few days later we spoke and he said that it was a real test for him. The girl sent him a message saying that she hated him because her parents now hated her. That was two days after he left. He never replied and he never heard from her again. As for me I was in shock for days and I realised that if he cannot be faithful to God he cannot be faithful to no one. He is many many miles away from me but we do still communicate.

Where did you meet?
I met him in my parish.

What is his character?
I found he was the humblest man I ever met.

What was happening in his spiritual life?
He was extremely lonely for all his relatives were abroad. He was quite spiritual but very realistic.

What do you really think about his relationship with an under age girl?
I found he drank a bit too much but he never drank alone. After drinking he may have said foolish things. He was from a country where girls marry at sixteen years of age. Like in his country, he thought that a minor was sixteen years and under. I understand the temptation of priests. A priest in his order confided the entire scenario of what happened that dreadful day and the fact that the girl stripped in his presence to me, she was out for him and it was premeditated.

Why do you keep communicating? Is there a future for your relationship?
The incident is still fresh in my mind, I still want to know that he is good. He asked my forgiveness so I bear no grudges and he is miles and miles away from me, so very soon the communication will dwindle and he will be a memory. Definitely there is no future for us but I wish for him to get counselling and stop the drinking and be a good priest again.

Now to our readers to start the discussion. Just to start the ball rolling, does a sexual relationship happen all of a sudden? Is a priest prepared for such situations?