Her lips slowly imparted kisses along my collarbone. Then down my chest. Down my stomach. Down to my pubic region.
“I’ve been a bad, bad girl….” softly confessed Fiona Apple in the background.
Her hand wrapped itself around my erect member. I felt her tongue gently flick the tip of my cock. My fingers grasped strands of her dark brown hair. After teasing me with her tongue for what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, her lips finally enveloped my throbbing hard-on.
A groan I had been stifling escaped my throat.
“Sheryl” had been a classmate before completing her master’s degree. We unexpectedly encountered each other at a seminary event as the spring semester drew to a close and agreed to meet for coffee at a newly reopened coffee shop near campus. Her background is in music; she’s a violinist and conducts a youth orchestra. Her father pastors a small urban church. She’s just a few years older than me and comes from a similarly conservative religious background (she was an undergraduate at Wheaton), although her theological leanings have since drifted leftward. (Witches, Sluts, Feminists was a title she recently read.) Her brassy personality certainly contrasts with mine, which made our ultimate coupling all the more intriguing. Our first date consisted of catching up and discussing one of her favorite authors, George MacDonald. Always flirtatious, she grew increasingly brazen during our second meet up for coffee — she ran her fingers through my hair at one point. Then her hand slid along my belt. By then I was fixated on getting her into bed. She must have intuited my intentions because she invited me back to her place.
Once we arrived at her home, we wasted little time — we headed straight to her bedroom. She undid my belt and the zipper on my pants. We started making out. Our lips met, and my tongue forced its way into her mouth. Again she ran her hands through my hair. I undid her bra; my mouth greedily sucked on her hard nipple. I caught her staring at my hard cock. There was no way to coyly hide my arousal. I was stripped bare in the most radical way, exposed as nothing more than an animal with an erection. She lay back on the bed and spread her legs.
Let my beloved come to his garden, and eat its choicest fruits…. (Song of Songs 4:16)
“Mmm….”
After I tasted her, she reached inside her nightstand (I spied a vibrator inside the drawer) and pulled out a condom. She rolled the condom onto my cock. She lowered herself down and guided my cock into her depths. My fingers dug into her flesh as we found our rhythm. Low grunts emerged from the back of my throat. My pace quickened as my hips lifted off the bed as I thrust myself deeper inside her.
“Please, God, yes….”
It had been a while since I last hooked up. My regard for Sheryl in the moment was purely carnal. It felt so good to be inside her.
“OHMYGOD!”
We were nothing more than two sinners fucking.
I felt her tighten around me. I moaned. She collapsed on top of me, breathless and sweaty.
Lutheran Guilt 