Missionary - Tumblr Posts
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Missionary so you can see my tiddies jiggle every time you thrust into my pussy
Unrelated to world building but encapsulating all the above, the very concept of religion—what most people typically conceptualize when they think of this word (won’t say all bc I don’t exist in anyone’s head but my own, but this concept of “religion” is pervasive globally due in large part to Christian missionary activity)—
is a conservative, Victorian, white, academic framework, and when we use the term “religion” to discuss any spiritual practice or experience, we are casting that framework and colonizing unique cultural perspectives and experiences with white Victorian academic principles in order to discuss it. This was done specifically to be able to analyze different beliefs, practices, rituals, experiences, and meanings, on those terms and as such, is a domineering and oppressive way to discuss spirituality, belief, and frameworks of reality outside of white Victorian academic principles.
@learnedfoote on X generously shares and discusses his research on this.
the thing folks living in Christian dominant cultures gotta realize is that even if you’re not Christian, your basic understanding of religion and spirituality and morality is still being filtered through a Christian lens. your very concept of what religion is and does is filtered through that lens.
I wanna be fucked missionary. they make me hold my legs up by the thighs so they can see how well my pussy takes their cock
Mormon Missionary eats tiny man.
Dawn
It’s that space between sleep and alarms, the cozy darkness of about 4am. He turns in his sleep, uncomfortable, rolling, nestling against her back gently like a rowboat docking.
His arms encircle her, drawing her closer, so he tucks his whiskered chin against her shoulder, spooning her fully, ensuring they are touching from head to toe. She stirs somewhat in complaint; she’d not been restrained moments ago and now he’d nearly buried the length of her, twining their limbs .
He is content for a moment, before her hips shift, rolling slowly against his groin as she surfaces from sleep, in turn waking his cock. Groaning, he pulls her tighter against his crotch, the unnatural movement waking her further. A soft moan escapes her lips and he’s emboldened.
His hands sweep over her nightshirt, up to her breasts, cupping them familiarly and rolling his thumbs over her rapidly stiffening nipples. She moans again, louder, her hips rolling against his prick. He pinches her nipples gently, and pulls, netting himself soft panting for his efforts. She’s more awake now, reaching behind her for his cock, stroking him through the flimsy fabric of his boxers.
He slides his hands over the low scoop of her neckline, cupping her breasts in his hands, skin on skin. She rolls over, impatiently shucking her shirt off over her head, pressing up against him with a warm, half-awake chuckle.
Cupping her face in his hands, he kisses her hungrily, lips nipping with ferocity, tongue battling. She wasn’t prepared for such an onslaught of ardour. Her kisses are sleepy, syrupy, sweet, her fingers trailing through the curls on his chest before descending to his boxers and the contents therein. She purrs as she slides her fingers beyond the waistband and meets his hard cock, stroking eagerly.
“Yes.” He hisses into her ear, before leaning down and nipping her shoulder, fingertips stroking over her back. She growls, nuzzling his throat, hands working his swollen prick.
“I want you.” She murmurs, realizing she wants more than to stroke her lover, and he pins her on her back, leaning in to taste her breasts aggressively, a knee sliding between her legs. She needs no coaxing.
He shimmies out of his boxers and centers himself between her legs. She drapes her arms over his shoulders, while he guides his cock through her wetness. “Please.” She pleads. He needs no further encouragement and slowly drives himself home with a contented growl.
She sighs, pleased, before they begin to move in tandem, an old practiced dance. He strokes her pussy with his dick, while she milks him with her cunt. They work together, the tempo teasing and pleasing, heightening their pleasure. Before he knows it, she’s reached her peak and surged over it’s edge, her cries a soft soprano in praise. He allows himself to let go and join her, meeting her gentle cooing with his own harsher, gutteral, primal calls, painting the walls of her pussy with his fluids, marking her as his again and again.
For a few moments the only sounds are their breaths slowing, before she chuckles and he rolls to her side with a laugh of his own.
“I hate it when you go.” She said, just a hint of sadness in her voice.
“I love it when you come.” He said with a grin. They were both silent before bursting into giggles and snuggling into each other’s arms.
Kissing his temple, she smiled and whispered, “I love you.”
“Love you, too.” He murmured, pulling her as close as possible.