The Missionary Position … or Missionaries?

The Internet has done wonders to broaden individuals’ whorizons. However, in hindsight, this broadening of ports of call may seem lacking in allure, no matter how alluring the sight of the hinds involved may be. As one gets into more and more specific kinks, one invariably loses interest in the vanilla acts of which one was once so fond.

And what act is regarded as more vanilla than the missionary position?

In an ever specialized world of double reverse cow-dwarf equestria with two pumps of hazelnut syrup, the humble missionary position has been largely forgotten, viewed as an act practiced only historically by puritanical husbands recently arrived on the Mayflower, praying passionately, “may she flower, lest we be forced to carnally sin twice in one season.” The position has gotten quite a bad rap recently, but in actuality it is one of the best possible wraps of sheet-body-body-sheet. This means of vitalization is in desperate need of revitalization.

It is precisely that mission, dear readers, in which I seek to enlist your arms, legs, and other parts. The cause to restore the missionary position to its lost pomp requires every last pump. I will gladly raise the flag and drop the panties, but I can’t go it alone.

In short, I need missionaries.

You will be like modern day Johnny’s Appleseed, without the nominal ‘Apple’, spreading your now bare-Seed across the countryside. The carnal knowledge formerly bound in the sound of that divorced apple will be free and the taste of these sweet syllables will grace countless pairs of lips, no matter how far south they may lie. With your blood, sweat, and other secretions, we may yet be able to redeem the missionary position in the hearts and mounds of the populace.

But always remember, in your good deeds and wood seeds, stay safe! The life of a missionary is a perilous one, and it is essential that you remain on your guard. Should you, through your negligence, contract an infection, you will spread it with the same careless disregard. In this way, the man-date of our mission is a double-edged phallus; the missionary position does not need any more bad press, and if you should infect a partner with anything but knowledge, you are doing far more to harm our cause than further it.

Of these sexually transmitted infections, one in particular will have lasting effects on your personal life, after its nine-month gestation period. Yes, I am talking about pregnancy. I implore you dearly, as you explore deeply, to please salt the earth before you plant your seed. It is our holy mission to dive into diverse pairs of jeans, but take care not to diversify the pool of genes. If you do, you will only increase the number of humans without an appreciation of the missionary position, and it will be years before anyone can correct that mistake without committing a federal offense.

With that, I think I have about covered all there is to cover about this most exquisite mission of uncovering. It is my hope that, with our devout efforts, we may resurrect the missionary position to its lost glory, and it may take its rightful place in the pantheon of procreation, at the right hand of the right hand. The metaphorical three dry days is long past, and it is high time for the missionary position to turn wine to water.

Join me, and be joined with me, as we await its second cumming.