I skipped my afternoon class today to visit “Liz” at her cozy rowhouse in the city. She’s a curvy, sultry brunette who I’ve seen before. She greeted me with a come-hither smile. She led me to her parlor, where we quickly disrobed. I noticed the impressive assemblage of BDSM gear on the wall. (She said she procured it from a lifestyle domme.) It was warm, so she turned on the AC. “Otherwise I’ll be sweating like a whore in church!”
“Do you have anything to confess?” she whispered in my ear as she gave me a massage.
“Not yet,” I replied.
Her hand lightly touched my thigh and slowly made its way toward my crotch. “You will thank the heavens and stars you called me.”
She brought up her fetishes. “I like cum,” she said straightforwardly.
As she stroked me, she crawled on top of me. My tongue eagerly traced around her pink nipples.
While talking, she somehow got around to revealing that her uncle was a Catholic seminarian in his youth. “Then he knocked my aunt up.” The massage continued until she flipped me over. She started stroking my erect member.
“I have your cock in my hand,” she teased in a sultry voice. Then she leaned in with her pouty lips.
“I’m wet and ready.”
She reached for a condom.
“Now you’re really going to believe in a higher deity,” she sensually whispered.
She straddled me and slowly lowered herself onto me. As she guided my cock into her pussy, she let out a deep moan.
“Fuuuuuck….”
Lutheran Guilt 