Sin Studies S2 E1 | Everyone prefers the church's bad boy (Patreon)

Everyone is over the age of 18

Many of you asked for Sin Studies to come back! I honestly didn’t even know that it would be a sleeper hit so I hadn’t planned for more than 2 weeks. But since y’all prayed so hard for it on your knees… Here are another two weeks. Do read Season 1 first, although I have written this in a way that you can start here for religious fun if you want to.

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The church elders don't like Brandon much, and they've never been afraid to show it. From criticizing the way his shirt fits to policing the literal words that he uses, everyone knows that Brandon isn't the favourite of the flock. 

The thing is, if Brandon didn't want to be there, he could just leave. In my opinion, he's pretty faithful given that he's always at the service, although he does have his own way of existing in God’s presence.

The elders aren't totally wrong. Brandon is what you would call a bad influence. Drinking, smoking and sexual thoughts? The cohort of us young 20 year olds in church have all gotten our fix from him. 

But he's still here in church. He confesses his sins and he reads the bible. Isn't that what it's about anyway? 

Maybe I'm biased, but being the same age as Brandon, of course I have all the same feelings as him. I just hide them better and maybe I'm better at resisting my demons. 

He says I just haven't had a good taste yet, and that's why I'm not more lured by the devil of it all. The whole church knows that Brandon and his girlfriend are doing stuff. And me, being his close buddy, I know the specifics of the “stuff.” 

I know he's still technically a virgin because Clara doesn't want to do it out of wedlock. But I also know that she's prone to opening her legs and letting him eat her out. 

“When she finished that first time, she said yes every time after,” Brandon told me. 

During service, they still put on an appearance of being proper. But I've been with them out of town before, and what Brandon says is true. I've seen it with my own eyes. That's another story if you want to know about that. 

I also know that Brandon is incredibly frustrated that he can't get any further than oral sex. He says a mouth is starting to feel boring, and he needs to fuck. 

“It's natural. God literally made us so we could fuck.” 

I don’t… disagree. But my girlfriend Jenny is even more closed off on that front. I've only gotten hand stuff and I can agree on one point: it's starting to get old. 

Anyway, that's the context, and where this story begins. It starts when I noticed Brandon texting in church, and his girlfriend nowhere to be found. 

“Where's Clara?” I ask him. His eyebrows are furrowed, his head is bent down towards the phone and his cross is in his mouth. 

Brandon shakes my head silently at me, checks to see if the priest is looking at him, and ducks his head lower to find shelter in the pews. 

It was pretty obvious what was up. It looked like an intense text battle and I barely saw him blink. I just sat there uncomfortably next to my friend, half listening to the sermon and half trying to read what was on the screen. I caught just a couple of words. 

“You've sinned so many times. And you get yours, so why can't I get mine?” 

“It's not what we're supposed to do.” 

“If you don’t want to, I'll find someone who does.” 

Brandon started spilling when we got into the basement to organize the materials. That's where he usually is himself because the leaders aren't in earshot. 

“She's such a hypocrite. I've made her cum so many times, and she draws the line at me actually getting something satisfying? She shouldn't be sucking on my cock like a lollipop then.” He tosses stuff carelessly into the corner. 

“Whoa.” I hold his arm as he prepares to toss a box. “This one has breakable stuff in it.” I take it from him and he leans against a dusty shelf. 

“Seriously, Terence. I am not fucking made for this. Maybe I'm just the devil’s spawn because I'm fucking horny, alright? Send me to hell for having wet dreams cause my girlfriend won't put out.” Brandon thumps the shelf with a fist and it rattles. “Fucking cheap bullshit,” he mutters and reluctantly stabilizes the structure. 

“You're not the devil’s spawn,” I reassure him. “Youre a good guy. You're just... you know I'm like that too.” 

“Mm,” Brandon hums. “Well, it's over now with her. So I might need that second fleshlight back.” 

Despite being in the basement alone with him, bringing that up does make me fidgety. I never confessed that Brandon and I masturbated with fleshlights together. Brandon calls it training. The church would call it a sin. I call it … I don't know. Something small to avoid bigger mistakes, maybe. 

I had plans with my girlfriend after the cleanup, so I gave Brandon a sympathetic pat on the back and went for my usual drive with Jenny. It's the same drive we always do around town. We usually stop by this park, and it gives us some distance from everyone else we know. Distance usually, to make out. 

She tastes like clouds. That's the only way I can describe it. Her boobs aren't big, but I love touching them. 

“So they're over?” Jenny says as I kiss the side of her face. “I can't believe it.” 

“I think so, yeah.” I place her hand on my crotch, testing if she's willing to play with me today. 

“I'm surprised.” The excitement spikes through my body as she accepts and unbuttons my pants. “Clara was always so happy with him.” 

“That's because she had an orgasm every day,” I moan as my boner gets grazed. I undo her tight jeans’ button, and she pushes my hand away. “Oh, Jenny.” I shiver as her delicate hand grabs my junk. 

Maybe I'm a sinner. But I'm a man with needs too, and a hand isn't the worst crime out there. 

“She did say he's good with his tongue,” my girlfriend says, stroking me. “And that he doesn't stop until she finishes.” 

“I can do that for you,” I moan into her mouth, asking for permission again with my fingers at her crotch. She holds my hand down, and then breaks the kiss. 

“We should stop.” She removes her hand from my shaft, and my needs speak for me. 

“Jenny.” I lean in to kiss her again and she returns just a small peck. “Can you finish me today? It's been a while.” We look down at my underwear stained with the wet spot I've made. “I think I need it.” 

To my relief, Jenny touches me again. It's a soft, reserved touch, but I'm used to cumming from slow stimulation like this. I lay back in my seat and let her explore me the way she’s willing to. 

“That feels good. A little tighter and faster, if you want me to finish faster,” I moan. I wish she would at least take my dick out so I didn't have to cum in my boxers like I do most times. 

“I don't even know what it's like to finish,” she says wistfully, groping my shaft through my underwear. 

“It's the best,” I whisper, humping up into her hand. “Do you want me to finger you?” 

We used to do that more, but I don't know if she doesn't like it or what. In any case, she's never climaxed from it. 

“Or I can try to eat you out,” I say. My cock throbs at the prospect. She's so pure, and I would love to be the first one to lick it. Jenny looks at me with pondering eyes, and then with one hand, she caresses my chin. 

“Why are you so smooth here?” 

“Close shave. That's what they tell us to do,” I say. 

“Clara says that it's nice when Brandon’s stubble scratches a little.” 

“Brandon?” I push her hand away in confusion. 

“I'm just saying. Clara says the way he eats her…”

“Why are we still talking about Brandon?” Suddenly, I didn’t want to cum anymore. I remove her hand, and pull my fly back up.

“No reason! It just sounds good the way that she describes it.” 

“We haven't even tried that yet. How would you know what's good or what's not good?” I shoot at her. “If you want to try, just let me do it.” 

“You know we can’t!” she counters. 

“Clara does it.” 

“That's because Brandon is a man that goes after what he wants!” She crosses her arm, like she's the one that just got insulted. 

“What the fuck? Now Brandon is some kind of role model?” I regret the swear word, but it's what came out of me. 

“You just don't get it.” Jenny pulls her cardigan tighter together. 

“I'm taking you home.” I start the car, and she gives me the cold shoulder.