Elder Ingles was in a constant state of buzzing. He practically skipped everywhere he went, still high from the thrill of fucking his companion. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before and he wanted it all the time. When Bishop Hart called him to his office for a follow up meeting, he could hardly contain his excitement. He had been so nervous before when the older man made him undress and played with his cock, but now, he wanted even more. He knew his insatiable desire was unbecoming, so he did his best to keep it quiet. He didn’t want to be too eager, worried it could be a problem. Around the Brethren he continued to play the part of the shy, quiet missionary. When he was back with Bishop Hart, it was hard for him to keep the rouse going. His heart raced and his body practically vibrated with nervous anticipation. Bishop Hart studied his face and could see that Ingles was trying to mask his excitement. It amused him, but ultimately, it made no difference to how he would proceed. “Stand up and undress,” Hart ordered plainly, giving him the same cool tone and expression as when they’d first met. Ingles did as he was told, fumbling with his clothes as his brain went into overdrive. He was afraid he was going too fast. Or too slow! Too fast might be interpreted as overeagerness, and maybe then he’d be punished. But too slow might mean he wasn’t obeying correctly, and maybe he’d be punished for that? His mind raced and over considered everything. So much so that he didn’t even realize until he began to unzip his pants that his cock was fully hard. And there it was. The one thing he couldn’t hide or pretend away. His cock was fully engorged, pressing hard between his garments and his body. He paused for a second, unsure of what to do. “Why are you stopping?” Bishop Hart asked, seated behind his desk, seeming to not so much as blink as he watched him undress. “I--I’m… hard,” Ingles confessed. His tone was both conciliatory and confused. He felt the impulse to apologize, but also remembered that his cock had been held by the man not long ago. He wasn’t sure how to behave anymore and looked to Hart for an answer. “That’s not a problem,” Hart replied, unphased as usual. “Continue.” Elder Ingles did as he was told, mindful of his erection hanging from his body as he stripped out of his garments. Bishop Hart stood up and walked next to him. He ran a hand over the boy’s chest and stomach, and then down to his penis. He stroked it gently, squeezing the head ever so slightly as he gripped it. He stayed there for a moment, as if he were checking Ingles’ pulse with it! He then let it go and walked around the boy. “I want you on the desk, facing toward me,” he ordered. Hart stood in placed and watched Ingles obey him. The young missionary got up on the desk and positioned himself on all fours. He wasn’t sure exactly what to do, but when he looked at Bishop Hart, the older man gave him a powerful, approving nod that suggested he’d done well. Hart then continued his walk around, looking at the boy from seemingly all sides. As he circled him, his hands explored him all over. Under his belly, around his shoulders, between his legs. Soon Hart positioned himself behind him, telling Ingles to arch his back so he could get a good, unobstructed view of his ass and hole. Elder Ingles looked ahead, feeling slightly strange about having his hole on display in such a way. Hart took his time and really become acquainted with it. Ingles’ cock hung low between his legs, and Hart couldn’t resist feeling it as well. As he stroked it, Ingles let out tiny moans, excited and sensitive to his touch. “You told me one that you’ve never had sex with anyone,” Hart asked, his voice trailing off as if it were a rhetorical question. “No, no one!” Ingles responded immediately. It wasn’t until the words escaped his mouth that he realized he’d actually lied. He did have sex with someone. A boy, even. He didn’t correct himself, knowing that admitting it now can’t be good. “What do you think you would do?” Bishop Hart asked, moving around slowly to the other side of the desk, meeting up with Ingles’ face. “I--I think I would enjoy it.” Bishop Hart then looked at him in the eye and studied him as he asked, “How would you do it?” Elder Ingles tried to think of what to say, but his face flushed as he recalled his experience before. Knowing he couldn’t admit to it, he just said, “I don’t know.” Bishop Hart paused, watching the microexpression in Ingles’ face. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he could tell something was happening in Ingles’ head. He then put his finger in the boy’s mouth, and felt around on his tongue and in his cheeks. It was hot and wet and smooth. Elder Ignles’ breath was heavy and desperate, as if they were beginning for something to fill his mouth. The boys eyes were locked onto Hart’s, clearly hoping for more. “Do you want to have sex with me?” Bishop Hart asked. “Yes!” Hart smiled. Ing