Date: Mon, 4 Apr 2011 22:34:40 -0400 From: chester Subject: Chester and the Church of Cock: Chapter two Chapter II: A powerful dream unlocks the phallus loving unconscious So powerful was his orgasm that Chester slept as though he had been given a powerful narcotic. When he awakened hours later with his cock against the palm of his hand, he could feel globs of warm pre-cum had leaked out from his foreskin. He started to slowly hump the bedsheets and luxuriated in the memory of his dream. Although he could remember but a few details, he was certain these few hours of sleep were the deepest he had ever experienced and filled with the most erotic dreams and lurid sexual desires that he had ever imagined possible. Every part of his body ached with the desire for cock and sex. He slipped a finger inside his sloppy foreskin and massaged his cock head and he tried to remember his dream. Chester recalled he was in a church or a large spacious edifice with ceilings so high that he couldn't see where they ended. It was dark, but he could smell the burning of candles and the aroma of incense he remembered from the time he was an altar boy well over twenty years ago. He was standing far back from the altar, but he could see that, instead of a crucifix, an enormous phallic totem pole was at the center of the apse. Looking around he saw that the congregation was comprised of men. Most were naked, but some wore the collar and shirts of the clergy while others wore jockstraps around their necks. Men of all ages and body types were raising their hands and looking at the ceiling chanting prayers excitedly as their erections swung back and forth. There came to be so many men in the church that they were packed in man against man. So many were there that the erection of one man had no choice but to enter and the ass crack and anus of the man in front. Chester dreamt that he too was chanting in worship to god. But the hymns he sang were strange and unlike anything he had sung before. As though channelling the spirit of some lascivious being, he chanted hymns replete with obscenities, calling out his sexual desires while looking at the phallic totem at the apse. His hands high in the air, he sensed a cock as long as an English cucumber penetrating him and spraying his insides with fluid over and over again until it seemed he was being constantly douched by the cockjuice of the stranger behind him. Then he remembered looking off to the side and seeing a confessional booth. He was drawn to its dark curtains and the dim yellow light bulb above it. He started to make his way toward it across the floor and was poked and penetrated by cocks all over his body along the way. He entered the confessional booth and knelt. The confessional was dimly lit and smelled of incense and the powerful aroma of cock and cum. Looking up he saw an old, yellowing jockstrap handing on the wall flanked by two used condoms on either side. Their white and cream-like contents dripped rhythmically into a chalice on the floor. Their dripping sounded like the ticking of an old grandfather clock. He raised his head and said automatically, "Forgive me father for I have sinned, it has been ten years since my last confession and I have many sins to confess." The mesh window in the confessional opened. Through the opening there suddenly appeared a face. It was Father Dyck, a priest he was extremely attracted to once, but he hadn't thought about him in many years. Father Dyck looked no older than when Chester knew him all those years ago. He wore eyeglasses which were small suited to an academic or professor. He remembered too that he sported a grey buzzcut which was in contrast to thick dark grey goatee. Chester had lusted after him when he was a boy and Father Dyck was in his 30s. Although he had not remembered the priest in quite some time, his subconscious led him to lust after men who reminded him of the priest ever since. Suddenly, strange letters appeared on the priest's forehead. Chester recalled thinking, `Aha...Alpha and Omega'. "Chester, is that you Chester?" said the Father, his dark piercing eyes as he looked at Chester. "Yes, Father Dyck," he responded joyfully. "Chester you've been gone from the Church too long. For your penance you will lick my asshole, suck my balls and drink my cum," the priest then turned around quickly, exposed his round manly ass through the confessional window and spread it wide. Chester lunged rabidly and directly with his tongue into Father Dyck's hairy bumhole, holding himself steady with his hands firmly on either side of his meaty buttocks. He slurped loudly as he hungrily descended to the priest's balls, yet he couldn't suck them fully into his mouth because they were both too long and too round, like a mesh basket holding two hairy grapefruits. Instead, he swabbed the Father's balls and asscrack in a frenzy going up and down with his tongue in wild abandon. Father Dyck turned around and swatted Chester's face repeatedly with his large genitals. "Behold the cum of the god Cock," he said. "Drink the fruit of the god Cock, Chester, drink this fucking cockjuice" he said as he covered Chester's face and body with long ropey arches of watery semen mixed with yellow tangy piss. "My fucking god, I am not worthy to receive thee," Chester mumbled as he gulped and sputtered through the Priest's shower of semen and cockpiss, "but only say the word and I shall be healed." It was at this moment that Chester had awakened wide-eyed, covered in sweat, and panting. Recalling this dream, his heart beat fast. He was saddened to have left this dreamworld yet he was happy for his heart leapt with joy at the thought of Father Dyck after so many years. His cock too tingled at the thought of such a church and its congregation of ecstatic cock worshipping men. Since giving up religion, he had missed gathering with others in pursuit of a common worship and he had never consciously considered such a church, but his fervor to do so now was planted deep in his mind. His heart and mind raced with the zeal of an evangelist. As a post-graduate student of religion and psychology, Chester believed in mystical signs and the power of dreams. The force of this dream on his psyche filled Chester with the desire to attend morning mass in search of Father Dyck. Kicking the blankets from his bed, he leapt to the floor and dressed quickly in yesterday's clothes. The desire to see Father Dyck after so many years made him dizzy with excitement and lust.