Cheeky Mormon [MF]

“I’m here,” he huskily whispered into the phone.

Heart pounding, I rose from my messy bed and scrambled towards my front door. Most people would expect Mormons to knock on their door but not me. I asked for this. I wanted this. I was excited.

“Coming,” I replied before ending the call.

Sure enough, when I swung the door open with fierce, there he was: six-foot-one, brown hair and eyes, square jaw and a furrow in his brow that gave away his nervousness. Just as I had asked, he was dressed in a white dress shirt, blue tie, dress pants and shiny loafers. His Sunday Best. It was eleven o’clock at night and my flood lights accentuated the dimples in his timorous smile.

“Hi,” he said in a timid voice with his phone still pressed against his ear. The Book of Mormon was clutched by his waist in his left hand.

“Hi,” I said while extending my arm towards my couch, “Come in.”

He lowered his phone and his head as he stepped into my apartment. It was painfully bare as I had just lost my job due to the pandemic. The only thing to look at was the couch, the TV, the TV stand, and the Super Nintendo with a copy of Super Mario Bros. and B.O.B. I hoped he didn’t mind.

We had been going to Church together for some time, including the singles ward. It boggled my mind how a man like him, tall and strong, would be part of the singles ward at our age. We’re in our late twenties. We’re aging out. What was stopping him from marrying a young pretty woman from Church? He could have easily pulled that off.

My couch creaked when he sat down. His palms were at his upper thighs, and as he slid them down to his knees, still clutching The Book of Mormon, he asked me if I really wanted to do it. And I did.

“Come here, then,” he said invitingly as he grabbed my shoulder. He pushed me down, pressing my face into the sticky leather of my couch. My ass was raised over his knee.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I moaned back.

With that, he ripped my cyan leggings down below my cheeks. My ass was exposed. I could feel a breeze in the place that I’ve never felt breezes before. It was exhilarating.

“I’m gonna do it,”

“Then do it,”

He raised his left arm and slammed The Book of Mormon down on my ass.

Whap.

Whap.

Whap.

With every spank, it was as if a spark of electricity wove throughout my body. I couldn’t keep my eyes open and when I could, if only for a moment, I wouldn’t have known what I was looking at. The ceiling? The curtain rod?

Whap.

My toes curled.

Whap.

I let out a moan.

Whap.

I bit my bottom lip, hard.

Whap.

I prayed to Christian Jesus that this man beats my cheeks so hard with Mormonism that they will become gods when they die.

Whap.

I think, wait, I don’t think.

Whap.

Have you ever came without being touched?

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/k9953i/cheeky_mormon_mf