man left the church bc he couldn’t resist fucking me

a man left the church bc he couldn’t resist fucking me

My sophomore year of college, I started a new class with a GORGEOUS, 6’6”, full head of curls, bright green eyed man. He was a little older and back to get multiple English degrees while working various leadership positions across youth faith groups, college-aged faith organizations, and a local church. We were paired immediately for ice breakers and instantly clicked over our shared music taste and sense of humor.

The chemistry followed us out of class as we walked across campus, eventually realizing we were in the next class together as well! We shared another hour and a half exchanging glances, passing notes, and getting in trouble for chatting too much. After class, we swapped pasts and phone numbers and set a study date.

I had a boyfriend, but I was SWOONING. This gorgeous giant of a man with a smile that could blind me, who could write poetry and probably crush me with one hand, was everything I ever wanted and I couldn’t have him. Seeing him every day, sharing flirty poems in class and scooting closer together on the couch during late study sessions… he drove me wild.

I could tell he wanted me, but he spoke so highly of his faith and the church and made it clear that he would respect the boundaries of my relationship. I wasn’t happy in it, but I was scared of ending it over a crush.

We’d drink whiskey during study nights, curled up on either side of his small couch, windows open with humid air drifting through. In between study guide quizzes we’d write each other poetry and love letters, secrets we weren’t allowed to open until we were alone later. He’d hand me a folded up note and forcefully grab my wrist the second I tried to open it — not yet, he’d say and wink.

My heart would race until I got home, staying up until my boyfriend fell asleep so I could read his poems. The way he saw my body, how he described my perfume and the torture of sitting so close to me every day without being able to do more…

One night we studied at my apartment and I was running behind getting ready. My roommates let him in while I was in the shower and he made himself at home in my bedroom, unknowingly to me. I stepped out of the attached bathroom and into my room, dripping wet with a small towel barely wrapped around me, completely in shock to see him sitting inches away on my bed.

The second he saw me, his jaw dropped. Without ever breaking his gaze away from me, he slowly stood up, closed and locked my door without saying a word, stepped over to me, and removed my towel. He took one look down my body, threw me on the bed, and didn’t stop fucking me until the morning. Every ounce of sexual tension stored up over months of late, whiskey-drunk nights inside or drunken dancing in football stadium parking lots at midnight, he released.

He took me again every single time he saw me after, each time more raw and passionate than the last. Finally, he told me he confessed to the church. He told them about every sin of ours (and there were plenty…) and was forced to immediately step down and resign from multiple positions, as well as publicly admit to the acts as a punishment from his supervisors.

You know the scene in Fleabag where she tells the therapist about hot priest to which she replies, “do you want to fuck the priest or do you want to fuck God?” Well I did both. That man chose this body over his lifetime commitment and dedication to his faith.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/krgjg2/man_left_the_church_bc_he_couldnt_resist_fucking