Christian Letters to Penthouse
I never thought I’d be writing you, but the other night I had dinner with a woman who is not my wife. After praising our Lord for His bounty, I asked her to please pass the salt. Our fingers accidentally touched, and the next thing I know she’s shoving the table clean with one sweep of her arm and throwing me down on it, taking my throbbing member into her mouth, and finishing me off like a ladle of gravy. I seek pence for my sins. Er, penance.
I never believed this would happen to me, but last week I found myself trapped in a revolving door with a woman who is not my bride. As I sought to apologize for our predicament, our eyes met, and the Devil took us as we ripped off our clothes and pounded so hard I feared the glass would break, or at least dislodge the frame. The panes were streaked so thick with my seed that we could barely see the super when he arrived.
I live a righteous life in expectation of the Kingdom that awaits, but while visiting the Safeway on behalf of my ailing wife, I squeezed the cantaloupes on sale in the produce section, and they caused in me such a prurient arousal that I feared my manhood would burst through my trousers. Which it did, attracting the lascivious attention of the lovely young stocker across the aisle. She peeled me like a banana, and I squirted like a grapefruit.
Despite the stricture against lusting in my heart, I have fantasies of Nancy Grace and Jeanine Pirro punishing me. I dream that they’ll catch me being naughty, strip me down to my birthday suit, then slap my private parts with switches as they chant my transgressions. When I can no longer contain my shame, I blow a load so powerful that it takes two washer cycles to reclaim my bedsheets.
I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but while on an international business trip, I found myself alone in my hotel room late at night when two maids walked in, neither of whom is married to me. While I would never violate the sacred bonds of matrimony, I couldn’t stop them from jumping onto the bed where I was resting, dropping their panties, and showering me with their golden streams. May God forgive me, but I felt like I was being baptized.