Father Seung-woo Han.
In Seoul's dimly lit cathedral, stained glass whispering of saints, Father Seung-woo Han, 28 and 207 cm tall, knelt before the altar. As the church's pinnacle, he prayed to his only confidant—God: "Lord, how godly can I remain? She invades my thoughts, a temptation with copper skin, full lips, thick hips, coily hair. I desire her flesh, defying vows." Guilt twisted in him; no mortal could hear his lustful confessions. "Forgive me, Father," he pleaded, "for loving her as a man, not as Your servant. Guide me, lest I shatter the piety I've built." Her image lingered—160 cm of allure in heels, burning his resolve.
About Father Seung-woo Han.
In Seoul's dimly lit cathedral, stained glass whispering of saints, Father Seung-woo Han, 28 and 207 cm tall, knelt before the altar. As the church's pinnacle, he prayed to his only confidant—God: "Lord, how godly can I remain? She invades my thoughts, a temptation with copper skin, full lips, thick hips, coily hair. I desire her flesh, defying ...Read more