Elder Campbell: Missionary Fantasy
Elder Campbell awoke from his bed with a start. He was dreaming about Bishop Hart again and didn’t know how to handle it. Ever since Bishop Hart conducted the worthiness interview with him, he’d been unable to think much of anything else. The anxious missionary felt like his whole experience was a dream. The surreal nature of it all messed with his head and confused him. Before that day, he’d managed to torture himself relentlessly for giving into his desires and sleeping with his girlfriend. It wasn’t fun, but it made him remember his duty to remain virtuous and pure. He never stepped out of line or gave in to sinful thoughts. Bishop Hart took control away from him. He tied his hands behind him and touched his body, exciting him when he shouldn’t be excited… even playing with his cock and hole. Still, the rush of that lost control was unbelievable. The closest thing he’d ever come to exploring his deeper urges was that one time with his girlfriend. But this… this was something much different. Not only did he enjoy himself, and not only was it with a man--it was also entirely outside of his power. Maybe that made it okay? He thought to himself. If he didn’t ask for it, then it’s not his. Not really. It was done to him, not for him. His mind worked overtime to rationalize it, but the fact remained the same: he loved it. He loved being fondled by Bishop Hart. Looking down in bed, he could see a rise in his bedspread. All the hemming and hawing about what to do with the encounter and his feelings about it stirred up the images in his mind of Bishop Hart’s handsome face and manipulative hands. He thought about how his fingers trailed his shaft and opened his hole. He’d never been touched there before--not even by his girlfriend! And it was like he’d discovered a source of pleasure on his body that he’d never known before. He looked over to see his companion fast asleep and facing the wall. This might be the closest thing I’ll have to privacy, he thought to himself. And then, without over thinking or hesitation, his hand fell to his swollen member, navigating beneath his garments to make contact with the points on his body that Bishop Hart had so expertly handled. He closed his eyes and began to remember how it felt to be sucked, licked, teased… he mimicked those touches, trying hard to recall the exact ways in which the older man awakened his body and relieved him of his pious vigilance. His fingers went further down, touching again his virgin hole, feeling its taught entrance as his fingertip circled around. He remember how Bishop Hart warmed him up with a wet, oiled hand and slid himself inside. He wondered if he could do that as well. Bringing his finger to his mouth, he slicked his digit on his tongue, holding it for a second to make sure it was good and ready. He took a breath, brought his hand down once more, and massaged his hole with his finger. His cock got even harder as he imagined Bishop Hart’s hand where his own was placed. He imagined his hot, athletic body naked in front of him, cock hard and presented before him. He wondered what it looked like… what it tasted like… how it would feel in his mouth… in hole hole… With that thought in mind, he pressed down on his sphincter, feeling it unknot and relax, taking him inside. It felt good. Really good. He pulled it in and out, massing his inner ring as he bit down on his lip. He had to be quiet. He could still wake up his companion. But for the first time in a long time, felt calm and at peace… and eager to cum once more...
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