Time and chance have made available a number of ladies visiting the area early this holiday season. As the academic semester winds down, I feel overwhelmed by an endless array of responsibilities: bringing the classes I’m teaching to a satisfactory conclusion; refining my dissertation; managing the many Christmas-related events at the parish. Amidst the stress, I sought a diversion. My date was with Lara, a mature brunette I had visited last year. She kindly arranged an encounter early in the evening, after I had prepared for the next Peace and Justice Committee meeting.
I arrived at her hotel at the appointed time and texted her. She provided the room number with directions on how to get to the elevator. I softly knocked on the door. She answered the door wearing a short, lacy red robe and black Louboutin heels, greeting me with a warm hug and soft kiss. I discreetly placed a white envelope containing the donation on the dresser. We sat on the couch and got reacquainted. Soft erotic music filled the dimly lit room. She had poured a bottle of wine into two glasses. She gently rubbed my thigh as we conversed, giggling at my dry wit. Caressing my chest, she leaned in and kissed me. By now she was rubbing my hard cock through my pants. My hands ran across the fabric of her silk robe before I moved to untie it. She wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath. I beheld her full milky white tits, kissing them and sucking on her succulent nipples. Soon she had my pants off. She quickly removed my boxer briefs and started stroking my cock. She said she wanted to taste me. She got on her knees and started to softly suck on my balls, then licking up my shaft before taking me into her mouth. She gazed up at me as her lips moved up and down my cock.
We moved to the bed. Still wearing her heels, she lay back and spread her legs. I accepted her invitation.
I inhaled her feminine scent. I flicked my tongue inside the lips of her pussy. Her hips gently gyrated as soft moans escaped her lips.
Oh fuck, oh fuck.
I told her I wanted to be inside of her. She applied a condom and some lube. She reclined on the bed as I moved on top of her. I felt her grab my ass after I penetrated her. Gentle pumping accelerated into harder thrusts. The sounds of our grunts and moans echoed around the room. Then she moved on top of me and straddled my hips, my cock again slowly disappearing inside her. She leaned forward and started to slowly ride me, her body sliding up and down. Grabbing her waist, I watched her beautiful tits bounce. I thrust my hips off the bed, seeking to drive myself deeper inside her. She rode me harder, bracing her hands on my chest. My body quivered, and I exclaimed my orgasm.
She retrieved a warm cloth to clean me up. We talked some more, mostly about our plans for the holidays. She noticed a certain tone to my voice: “You sound sad.” A postcoital melancholy had set in. We lay still in bed for a while, quietly, before our allotted time was about to expire. We arose from the bed to dress. Again clothed, we wished each other a merry Christmas. She planted a soft kiss on my lips before I headed out the door.
Lutheran Guilt 