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Darcy

Years: I'm just over twenty
Hobby: Lonely Local Women Searching Canadian Dating Looking For A Older Woman Cougar. Real People
I prefer: Gentleman
Tint of my iris: I’ve got soft brown eyes
What is my sex: I am woman
My hair: Reddish
Smoker: No

Do you write sex stories or sex-related texts? Register here to post. Posted Wed 15th of October Report. Introduction: A horny mormon teen fucks her bishop. This is my first attempt at a story so comments and suggestions are welcome, but try to go a little easy on me.

About me

But it must have seemed that way to everyone else, including my companion, Sister Dannon. What really bothered me was how it had not bothered me that he was getting married to some skinny white girl at BYU-Idaho.

Guilt washed over me for these thoughts. I should be devastated to lose such a good righteous Priesthood-holder, who could take me to the Temple of course, being a missionary, I had already been through the Temple but marry me in a beautiful Sealing Room, the pair of us looking past one another to the mirrors on opposite sides of the room and seeing our reflections in an endless repetition on to eternity.

Eternity with Jack? I shuddered. The brief time that I had been serving my mission in the Florida — Fort Lauderdale Mission, I had found that the company of women was so much more — attractive. Then there was Sister Dannon. Oh, beautiful, sweet Sister Dannon.

She was perfection incarnate. Tall, Swedish-American blonde from Orem, Utah. She was not skinny but small — less like a fashion model and more like a Hollywood starlet. Her eyes were a luscious hue of sky-blue. Her lips were plump and juicy and young. Since the Church had reduced the missionary age for Sister Missionaries to twenty, the field was inundated with barely-legal goddesses so much like her. And yet, none were like her. Her courage. Her determination.

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Her wisdom. Her hips that tugged at the fabric of her pretty dresses in a way that seemed to never crumple. She was like my own angel. I was the luckiest companion in the world. I suppose you could say that I was one of those goddesses, too. I was a little frumpy around the middle but buxom upstairs, so my little tummy was less noticeable. Since coming to America for my first semester at BYU, I Mormon porn stories noticed that American boys really took notice of my breasts. Jack had certainly liked them, but now he was days away from being wed to a skinny redhead from Idaho who had not even graduated High School, yet.

The other companionship that we shared our apartment with — Sister Gerrero and Sister Olson — had gone to an early morning appointment, leaving us to study alone. I liked white girls. I grew up on Hollywood movies where there could only be so many girls who looked like me. American TV was better than our novelas in Mexico.

American magazines were better than our magazines. Whether or not I would admit it, every slender blonde girl was Marilyn Monroe to me.

In Florida, Zebra companionships were a necessity to make the best use of the coverage of our areas. We taught English-speaking potential converts as a team but I taught Spanish-speaking Cubans, Puerto Ricans and Mexicans on my own while Sister Dannon mostly sat and smiled.

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I know that most people struggled to get used to being around another person 24 hours a day — even sleeping in the same room. And if she were Jack…Oh, I was back to that, again…. But my smile quickly faded as a I saw the compassion in her eyes. Oh, how did she always manage to see right through me? She stood, making my heart race for a moment. She was wearing a black dress that draped her figure with a well-tailored fit. I had seen her in her underwear plenty enough times to know that the dress was deceptively loose — she was one of those women who never seemed to get naked for long and had every reason to be proud of her flawless body.

I was stunned. She put her arms around me and pressed my head to her ample bosom. It was so right. All that I could think was that it was just so right… for being so wrong. My arms went round her waist. Tears began and I separated from her body, crying like a baby. She stroked my hair and brought my face back to her bosom. She rocked me, gently. She put a hand to my cheek.

You are precious. She nodded as she reached up and pulled the pin from my charcoal-black hair, letting it tumble freely down my shoulders. I waited for her to jump off my lap. I waited for her to call me a wicked and lustful sinner! But she only smiled at me, beaming her perfectly-straight and perfectly-white teeth, and continued to touch my hair. The peeks up your skirt, pretending that I was adjusting your pantyhose that was not even really caught Mormon porn stories it. Just come with me, will you?

There it was. That word. I looked up to her, paralyzed.

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I wanted to call her by her own first name. I had never dared — it was so expressly against the rules. Identity on our mission was indistinguishable from respect. MelissaI thought, silently. My Melissa.

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My sweetheart, Melissa Dannon. Standing toe-to-toe, our breasts grazed against one another. Her breath was quickening. I knew then that she was as nervous as I was. Our lips met delicately, squeezing tenderly together. Sister Dannon gave a slight moan as the tip of my tongue stroked her lips. Her lips parted for me and I slid my tongue between them. I touched her face. She cupped my breast. I broke off to gasp for air at the feel of her slender fingers. She took advantage of an opportunity to kiss my exposed neck. Even as I felt the Spirit leaving me, my heart lifted up.

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This was the companionship that I needed: Sister Dannon, my own, personal constant companion. She grinned and kissed my lips once more, my hands stroking the delicate skin of her long, elegant neck. She had bit tenderly on my lower lip and pulled it out in a sexy, drawn-out kiss. Then, she licked the flavor of my lip gloss from her lips. In our bedroom, we sat on her bed. She wore a very simple bra over them: plain foam padding, no lace or frills of any kind.