Mormon Missionaries

Turning around, you see a pair of mormon missionaries, barely older than you. Both of them look pretty awkward with large glasses and carrying a big set of scriptures. They're dressed in nice suits that look entirely too hot for the weather and they're looking at you uncomfortably. Thinking this might be your chance, you step towards them ignoring what they most likely caught you doing and greet them.

"Hi, I'm Alana," you say cheerfully, with a big smile and just a little bit of a bounce in your step as you make sure your braless tits bounce around freely.

They immediately perk up, not just from the sly glances at your body, but just from being greeted nicely as they're most likely used to being treated badly when they approach strangers without any warning.

The taller of the two clears his throat, adjusting his glasses. He's a few inches taller than you, with a lanky build, and dimples that sink into his cheeks as he offers an awkward smile. His companion, shorter and stockier, is blushing even deeper than your own flaming face.

"Uh, hi," the taller one stutters, his voice cracking ever so slightly. "I'm Elder Jones, and this is Elder Smith." He motions to his partner, who manages a quick, jerky nod.

You give them both a flirtatious once-over, biting your lower lip as your gaze lingered on Elder Jones's dimples and Elder Smith's broad shoulders. You could already imagine their hands on your body, exploring every curve and crevice. Stepping closer, you leaned in, the scent of their sweat and aftershave mingling with the warmth of their bodies.

"So, Elder Jones, Elder Smith," you purr, "what exactly brings you two young, strapping missionaries out on such a hot day?" as you talk, you run a finger along the spine of their scriptures, letting your nail lightly graze the leather binding. "Maybe... you have something that I would like?"

Elder Jones's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes darting between your eyes and cleavage. Elder Smith looked like a deer caught in headlights, his face as red as a tomato.

"Well, uh, we're actually here to share a message about our Savior, Jesus Christ," Elder Jones stammered, tightly gripping his scriptures. "We, uh, we believe that through His atonement, all mankind can be forgiven of their sins and return to live with our Heavenly Father."

Cocking your head to the side, feigning interest, you brush a strand of hair behind your ear, as your elbow pushes your tits forward revealing more of your cleavage. "Forgiveness of sins, huh?" you muse, voice dripping with innuendo. "Tell me, do you also have the... power to absolve sins?"

Elder Jones shifted uncomfortably, his dimples deepening as he blushed. "While we don't have the authority to forgive sins ourselves, we can help you repent and... and receive forgiveness from our Heavenly Father through the power of Jesus Christ's atonement," he managed to say.

"I see." You said stepping back, feigning a contemplative look. "That's... interesting. I would love to hear more, but its pretty hot out here. Do you have somewhere we can go to get out of this heat." Even though it wasn't particularly hot outside, you wanted to move this to a more private setting.

Before Elder Jones can respond, Elder Smith blurts out, "Our apartment is just down the street. We could go back there and give you the first discussion."

Elder Jones gives his companion a panicked look and you can hear him whisper, "We're not supposed to bring anyone back to our apartment, especially someone like..." he leaves the words unspoken as you step back in.

"That sounds like a plan, lets go to your apartment and I'm definitely interested in you giving it to me," You say as you sauntered away, your heart pounding in anticipation, you could practically feel their eyes on your ass. Your body tingled with anticipation, driven by your newfound lust and insatiable curiosity. The walk to their apartment seemed to take an eternity, the hunger in your belly and between your legs growing with each step.

The missionaries' apartment building was nothing special, just like any other in the neighborhood. You tried to keep your composure as Elder Jones fumbled with his keys, eventually managing to unlock the door. The place was Spartan, with only the bare necessities: two twin beds, a small kitchenette, and a cramped living area. In the living area were a pair of folding chairs and a couch.

Before they can say anything, you’ve sat down on the couch and pulled both chairs up right in front of you. They awkwardly step over and sit in front of you. With the angle of you on the couch and their chairs being taller, they’re greeted by a good look down your shirt with even a hardening nipple peaking out. They stammer and look through their various books and manuals as you wait patiently.