The attention from President Olsen made Sorensen feel special. His attraction to Olsen was undeniable, and he desperately wanted to be taken by this man.
In their meetings he was careful to show the utmost respect and tried to demonstrate his willingness for total submission.
None of this was lost on President Olsen.
While Elder Sorenson had been touched by the president before, he had never met with him in the intimate ordinance chambers of the temple. As an ordained member of the higher priesthood, he would now learn more about the secrets and traditions of the fraternal order.
And he would learn about traditions that once kept the identities of The Order’s leadership secret.
In a dark room of the temple, scarcely lit by candles, Elder Sorenson stood tall, presenting himself as he hoped the man he longed for would approve.
Darkly dressed and wearing his ominous, black mask, the powerful man emerged from the shadows like a wolf in the night.
He stood much taller than Sorenson, making the bold, young man feel powerless and small. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Sorenson could see the steely eyes of the man behind the mask. And as if entranced, he resigned his body to his pleasure.
President Olsen pulled firmly at Sorenson’s tie, loosening it from his shirt with a forceful tug. He did not pause or calibrate his actions to the boy’s reactions. He undressed him as if he owned him. And for the time at least, he did.
Sorenson stood still, trying to maintain his stance as the aggressive man stripped him down to his garments, removing his shirt and dropping his pants. He braced himself against a red altar he could feel behind him. It provided him with just enough support to withstand the older man’s movements.
With his hands planted firmly behind him, Sorenson watched as the older man ran his long fingers over his smooth, firm torso. They passed over his abs like they were teasing the keys of a piano. They continued down until they slid below his garment shorts and into his crotch, clutching onto his growing erection.
Although Sorenson had plenty of experience submitting to the men of the Brethren, each time with each member inspired a different tenor of arousal. Here, in the flickering candlelight, he felt like an object for the man to play with. And President Olsen was enjoying his new toy.
The older man leaned Sorenson back onto the altar, lifting up his legs to continue undressing him. With his socks and shoes removed and pants pulled off, Sorenson was positioned on all fours, arching his garment-clad buttocks into the air.
President Olsen paused for a second, examining the perfect arch and shape of Sorenson’s backside. He knew that peeling the boy’s shorts off would be a special treat and he did not want to waste it.
Carefully, he curled his finger tips under the waistband and very, very slowly pulled them down. With each creeping motion, the boy’s sweet, smooth cheeks were revealed… along with his tight, smooth hole.
Sorenson felt the air on his butt, open and exposed to the tall, masked man. Without being able to see, he focused his attention on every touch.
Olsen’s large, strong hands caressed his hanging genitals, teasing and probing his testicles and shaft. They also ran along the curve of his hips, feeling their agile contours. They landed ultimately on his hole, slick with oil and quick to pierce his sphincter.
President Olsen’s fingers did not relent. They traveled in and out of him, testing the boundaries of his hole, going deeper and deeper. Soon, they even increased in number.
By the time he felt two long fingers creep into his body, his moans began to echo in the darkness. It felt strange to be penetrated this way, but he couldn’t help wanting more. He didn’t know if it was his own personal desire or his submission to the moment. He didn’t care, as long as it didn’t stop.
Soon, the fingers retreated and were replaced by a something larger, wider, and harder. The foreign object pressed his body apart, opening him up more than he anticipated.
President Olsen’s eyes focused on the boy’s hole, watching it closely as the plug he held in his hand was absorbed into Sorenson’s body. His tight hole took it deeper and deeper until it swallowed it down to the hilt.
The older man listened to the sound of the boy’s moans as he pulled it in and out. Sometimes he would let it linger in a state of near-removal, pushing on the boundaries of the boy’s ass. Sometimes he would fully take it out, exciting himself on the loud exhales of the boy’s relief.
Seeing the mouth of his hole open wide and close down pushed President Olsen to the limits of his patience. He didn’t like to rush things, knowing that all good things take their time. But he knew the boy’s hole was ready for him, and he was determined to take what’s his.
He tapped the young man on his hips, indicating to him to shift his position. Sorenson moved onto his side, following Olsen’s direction. He was pulled to the edge of the altar, resting slightly from the physical exertion of the plug.
Before he could even catch his breath, he felt Olsen’s hand tug hard on his balls, causing his back to arch. Just then, he felt the hot, oiled tip of the man’s bare erection force its way into his warmed up hole.
Barely able to move, he continued to moan as he submitted himself to be the fuck hole for the powerful president. He felt a comfort in knowing that all had to do was lie there and take it. In that resignation, he felt an intense pleasure as he hole wrapped tightly around Olsen’s cock…

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