Chapter Three

I remember the first time I got caught having sex at church.  It was about six years ago, when we were both fourteen, Stephen and I, although he was about twice as big as me back then.  There was this room in the undercroft, some sort of old utility room that was never used any more, except by boys like Stephen and me.  As far as I knew at that time, he and I were the only ones.

It was after church one Sunday.  We’d both served as acolytes--altar boys, for you non-church folk--and we’d both been hard all through the service.  You could easily see our erections poking up under our vestments when we were sitting down, because it was Summer and church was hot, and well, we didn’t wear much besides sox under our white albs.

I was on top of Stephen, like I said, he was nearly twice my weight, so it worked best that way, otherwise him on top of me would have made it almost impossible for me to breathe while I blew him.  We had wasted no time after the recessional shedding our robes and getting into 69 position on this old pew that was stored in the room.  Although we were young, we’d been doing this for a couple of years, and I knew how to keep Stephen on the edge for several minutes, at least.  When we’d started fooling around in sixth grade, he had always wanted me to make him cum as fast as possible.  But I’d found some stuff on the internet about slowing things down, and I was getting fairly good at it.  (My book-worm parents were clueless about technology, and had no idea what I was looking at on my computer!) 

Anyway, he’d been shooting cum into my mouth for about two years, and I loved it, but I’d also started to shoot a couple of months ago myself.  I had hardly any hair then, just a bit at each side of my dick, and none anywhere else except for my head, of course.  Stephen had a lot more at his dick, and even up toward his belly button, but he was also pretty smooth everywhere else.  Neither of us had big dicks yet, just around four inches hard or so.  Actually, mine was longer than his, and he gagged when I pushed too far into him.  I could get all of him into my mouth, although his pubic hair tickled my nose.  When I first started to shoot semen, I just had a few drops, but that increased pretty fast, and by this time I was on my way to becoming a real cum cannon.  He was shooting about two quick squirts, and after that a couple more drops, and then he  was done.  But I was shooting five, sometimes six thick squirts, and after the strong ones, I still pumped out cum.  It’s still more than he can swallow even now that we’re in college, and I think it’s way hot when I can pull out of his mouth and get a few shots across his face.  In fact, when we both have a break on campus at the same time,  I like to cum all over his face so that he has to go to his next class all cummy.  He complains, but I know he likes it.  But I’m getting ahead of the story.

Stephen gained a lot of weight when we were twelve, in sixth grade.  By the time we started seventh grade, he was like 125 or 130, he had major pubes, and he was shooting cum.  I stayed tall but slender.  Some would have said skinny, but I prefer slender.  Or svelte.  Not skinny.  At the start of eighth grade, when we got our annual size and hernia check in gym, I weighed exactly 88 pounds stark naked.  He looked like he was in high school: I looked more like a sixth grader.  It seemed like nothing I could eat would make me gain weight.  Stephen, on the other hand, had really bulked up.  We were both around five foot four, maybe five, but he was pushing 150 by then, solid but not fat.  So when we sucked each other off, we definitely had to have him on the bottom.

So that’s how we were, him pushing up into my mouth, me pushing down into his, both of us naked on the old church pew.  Stephen was trying to cum but I wouldn’t let him, and whenever I thought he was close, when he pushed up into me, I opened my mouth and stopped sucking for a few moments.  Then after he relaxed a bit and dropped his hips back down, I took him back in my mouth and gave him some more tongue and got him all built up again, and then I backed off again.  While I was doing this, of course, I was fucking his face, and when I felt myself ready to shoot, I increased my tongue action on his dick, sucking and licking him nonstop, and just before I began to explode into his mouth, he pumped his little load onto my tongue, and then he was done.  I started blasting him with cum, a couple shots full into his mouth, then a couple onto his face, and then the rest back in his mouth.  He was coughing and gagging some, but I kept my dick in his mouth until I was done, and then I dropped my hips fully onto his face and lay on him as my dick went soft, still in his mouth.

And that’s how we were when we became aware that Father Mike was standing in the doorway watching us.  Stephen saw him first.  He pushed me up suddenly by the hips and started yelling at me.

“Ash!  Ash!  Get up!  Quick, get up!  Oh, man, we’re going to hell, we’re going to hell.  Come on Ash, get off me.”  Because he basically pushed my legs off the narrow pew, I had no choice but to slide all the way off him, down to the floor.  Then I saw Father Mike too.  There I was:  naked, in the basement of the church, cum in my mouth and dripping off my cock.  I’ve just sucked off my best friend and fellow acolyte, and my own cum is all over his face.  This was probably not good.

“Uh, Hi, Father Mike.  We were just, um, I mean, me and Stephen were um...”  I trailed off.  There just didn’t seem to be anything I could say.  Stephen, for his part, was just moaning some kind of mantra that seemed to be based on “going to hell.”

Father Mike was our very young priest-in-charge.  He’d started here as a seminarian--he’d gone straight from high school to seminary--and after he graduated and got ordained, the bishop let him take over our tiny parish.  We were too small to support a regular full time priest.  But Father Mike could live with his parents so he didn’t need much salary, and the bishop let him stay here.  He was only about 22 or so, and he looked younger.  As long as he wore his black shirt and clerical collar, he looked like an adult.  Almost, anyway.

Now he stepped into the room.  “You two need to sit here and catch your breath.  Then we’ll get you cleaned up.  You sit right here; I’ll be right back.”  He indicated the pew that we had just vacated.  Before he left the room, I noticed that his pants had a major tent factor going on.  Maybe this was not going to be as bad as I thought. 

In a few seconds, he was back with some towels, and oddly enough, a thermos.  Well, maybe he wants his coffee, I thought.  The pants tent was still there, I noticed.  He sat down between us. 

“First, let’s get you a bit more presentable,” he said, and started wiping Stephen’s face with a damp towel.  When he had the cum cleaned off his face, he wiped his dick as well, milking the rest of the cum out it as well.  Then he did the same with me, which felt quite nice.  In fact, I started to get hard again.  Then he put his arms around both of our shoulders and pulled us close to him.  It felt even nicer; I really liked Father Mike, and I knew he liked me. 

He’d been leader of our youth group before he was ordained, and we had lots of fun.  A couple of years ago he’d taken us all out for a pool party, so I’d seen him swimming.  He kept a tee shirt on and he wore baggy board shorts all day, but I could still tell he was really thin.  I didn’t get a look at his dick that day, and that was before Stephen and I had started fooling around, so I guess I wasn’t all that interested yet.

I liked snuggling next to him, naked or not.  When he pulled me close to him, I felt like everything was somehow going to be OK, despite the fact that I had just had committed a huge sin, having been caught naked  in the church basement, blowing my friend.

Stephen was still mumbling his “going to hell” mantra.  Father spoke to him first, one hand on Stephen’s head, forcing him to look face to face.  “Stephen, shut up.  I want you stop, OK?  Just stop.”  Stephen looked up in surprise, and actually stopped.

“Look, guys, sex is not automatically bad.  It’s not.  Really!  Think about it:  which of the 10 commandments says sex is bad?”

“Uh, I dunno, Father,” Stephen said.

“Remember what I told you about ‘Father’ when it’s just us?  Call me Mike.  ‘Father’ makes me feel old.  So which commandment do you think says sex is bad, Ash?”

“The adultery one?” I suggested.

“Do you know what adultery is?” Father Mike asked me.

“Isn’t that when you cheat on your wife?” I said.

“Right.  Or a wife cheats on her husband.”  He went on, “Tell me:  what does it mean to cheat on your spouse?”

“Well, I guess that’s when you have, you now, like an affair, isn’t that it?”

“Exactly,” Father Mike said.  “Now, do you think someone could cheat on their spouse but not  have sex?  Does having an affair have to involve sex?”

“Well, I don’t know...” I said.

“Do you think the adultery commandment is more about cheating, or about having sex?”

“Uh, maybe more about cheating?  But also about sex?”

“There you are.  Now tell me this:  are either of your married?”  he asked with a smile.

“Father!  I mean Mike!  You know we’re too young to get married!”

“There you are again.  I knew you were smart boys.  Now another question:  are either of you cheating on anyone by having sex with each other?”

“No way, Mike.  We only blow--I mean, we only have sex with each other.  And if we did it with anyone else, it wouldn’t be cheating or anything, it would just be, um, it would just be well, it would just be sex.”

“There you are again.  It’s just sex, you’re not cheating, you’re doing no harm, it feels good.  So stop with all this “going to hell” silliness,” he said to Stephen.

“Now, how many times does Jesus teach about sex between boys?”

“Um, half a dozen?”  That was Stephen’s guess.  I wasn’t so sure.

“Two or three?” I ventured.

“Nope, both wrong this time.  In fact, Jesus never ever says anything about sex between boys.  Never.  Not once.  Must not have been too important to him, wouldn’t you think?
   
Besides, if I was worried about you going to hell because of a little bit--well, because of a lot-- of fooling around, I’d have said something a long time ago.  Let me guess:  you two have been jerk off buddies for about two years now, am I correct?  Since maybe sixth grade?  When Stephen hit puberty?”

My mouth fell open, probably Stephen’s too, although I couldn’t see.  He certainly didn’t say anything.

“How..., who..., how did...” I finally managed.

“You’ve not been very subtle,” he said.  “In fact, I’ve been thinking that I should talk to you about not being so obvious.”

“What do you mean?” I said, amazed.

“Well, when you two are together, you have a major tendency to touch each other.  A lot.  And I don’t mean punching each other’s arms, or putting each other in head locks.  Not that kind of touching.  Touching like this.”

He took his other arm from around Stephen and touched my bare chest before he continued.  “Touching like  running your fingers down the other’s chest all the way to his crotch, that kind of touching.” 

He demonstrated as he talked, and chills ran through my body, and my cock got half hard again in like three seconds.  He kept going, touching me as he described how Stephen and I tended to touch each other (which we indeed did like to do). 

“Touching like keeping your hand on his thigh, all the way at the top, next to his balls, during the sermon.  Touching like pressing your crotch up against his butt while you’re standing in line to receive communion.  Touching like groping each other’s crotch when you think no one is looking.  That kind of touching.”

I opened my mouth, found no words there, and closed it again.

“Now I’m going to tell you a secret,” he said.  “And given your current situation, I am sure that I can trust you to keep it.  Sometimes when I really need to get away from the rest of the church, when I need some relief myself,” and as he said this, he removed his hand from my crotch, and made the universal jerking-off motion, “I come down here too.  That’s why I was down here when you two were blowing, uh,--having sex with each other.”

I looked down at his crotch and noticed that the tent had not yet gone away.  In fact, it had developed a darker spot at its top.

“But Mike?  Why does everyone say it’s bad to do sex?”

“Well, that’s a hard question that has no easy answer.  Our society has reached a point where it is generally agreed that children should not have sex.  It has not always been like that, and it is not like that everywhere in the world.  But it is here.  Nowadays, our society basically says that for children, all sex is bad.  And it’s illegal for adults to have any kind of sex with children.  But remember, “illegal” is not the same as “sinful.”  So I can’t legally do anything with you, even if I wanted to.  I can, however, help.  And watch.” 

And with that, he picked up the thermos from where it lay on the couch, and another towel.  He opened the thermos and poured some steaming water onto the towel.  “And, I can help get you ready.”

He took the hot towel and placed it directly over my crotch, pushing it down firmly between my thighs onto my balls and over my dick, squeezing firmly as he did so. 

“Dam--I mean, dang!  Mike, that feels awesome!”

He took a second towel, added hot water, and did the same to Stephen.  “How does that make my horny little acolytes feel?” he asked, smiling, giving each of our crotches another squeeze through the warm towel. 

I didn’t have to say anything; my dick had already answered for me.  With the stimulation of the heat as well as the conversation, I was more than ready to go again.  I looked over at Stephen’s lap and saw a similar condition.  The hot towels were now hanging from our upright dicks, no longer covering our balls.  Father took them and rubbed them back over our balls once more, and then took them away.  He placed his hands on our dicks, and amazingly, started praying.

Father in Heaven, you made us in your own image.  Bless these boys, make them always eager to please their partners before themselves, give them good sense and self restraint when needed, and let them always know that human pleasure taken in love is pleasing in your sight.  Amen.

“Amen,” we echoed, automatically. 

Then he removed his hands, helped me shift to the other side of him so that I was next to Stephen again.  He and I started making out again, and out of the corner of my I saw that Father Mike had opened his pants and taken out his own dick.  My God!  He was huge!  I turned from Stephen and stared.  He must have been double the size of Stephen and me!  I had never had a dick so big in my mouth, and I wanted it.

I had sucked several cocks by then, but I wouldn’t turn into a full fledged cum slut for another couple of years.  I’d taken care of some of the boys who threw wood in our locker pod after gym, and once in band, when we had a substitute and had study hall instead of rehearsal, I blew the entire percussion section in the back of the room behind the kettle drums.   There were five boys and they all sat in tight a semicircle, their hard cocks sticking out of their pants, with me on the floor in the middle on my knees.  The sub never even knew.  At church Stephen and me were the only acolytes for a few years until some new families moved in and the church started to expand, and we sucked each other every week.  So I definitely liked sucking cock, and I loved cum, but I had not yet never done a grown man, or a boy as big as Father Mike.

I totally forgot about Stephen for a moment and I didn’t care what Father Mike had said about being legal.  I just saw his cock and I wanted it in my mouth.  In fact, my mouth was watering while I stared at it.  I turned around on my knees beside him.  I unbuttoned his black clerical shirt the rest of the way and helped him get his arms out of it.  I just looked at him for a minute:  he was just like me, a bit taller, and a few years older.  Thin.  Slender.  OK, skinny.  No hair except a few under each arm and a very small, very neat patch above his cock.

And my God, it was long!  I think mine was about four and a half, maybe even five inches then (and I’m barely six now), but Father Mike’s must have been twice as long as mine.  It was the biggest dick I’d ever seen.  Which in retrospect should not have been all that surprising, given that my experience was limited to Stephen’s modest equipment, and other boys in seventh and eighth grade.  But it was big, and considerably thicker than either Stephen’s or mine. Stephen’s was still pretty skinny, and it was kind of like sucking a long thumb.  I wasn’t much different then, I guess, just a bit longer.  Father Mike must have been about an inch and a half in diameter, again, not huge but bigger than I’d so far sucked.  To me that day, it looked as thick a soda pop can, and twice as long.  It was the most beautiful cock in the world, and I just had to suck it.

I went down on Father Mike, even as he tried to tell me not to.  I didn’t care, I needed his cock, I wanted to feel his hot cum squirting into my mouth.  I brushed the uncut top with my lips, another first for me, as all the boys I’d sucked had been cut.  I barely kissed it a second time when the foreskin slid back, exposing the shiny head.  I pulled back just long enough to look and notice the gleaming precum oozing out of the tip and then took him as far into my mouth as I could.  Although I was gaining some skill in the cocksucking department, this time I applied no finesse.  I just wanted Fr. Mike’s cock in my mouth, and I wasted no more time with preliminary licks.  I took his solid pole into my mouth and sucked it for all I was worth.  I licked and slurped and sucked some more.  Within seconds Fr. Mike had given in to ministrations and was starting to push up into me.  Then I felt more than saw him swivel around so that he was lying on the pew, his face below my hips.

He took me into his mouth the same way I had taken him, fast, without preliminaries.  I felt his hot mouth on my dick, and as he was fucking my face above his groin, I was fucking him under me.  It’s a wonder we did not fall off the narrow pew, for we were both well past the point of self control.  It did not matter that I’d just been blown by Stephen a few minutes ago; that was some kind of kiddie imitation of this, and this was the real thing.  This was raw, unfettered male sex, sex without constraints, pleasure without limits. And this did not take very long.  The hot cum I wanted so badly was not long coming to me, and Fr. Mike shot an incredible load of cum into my mouth, fast and hard and thick, shot after shot that I did not even try to keep up with, I just let him overflow my mouth, making me cough some and blow cum out my nose, more and more cum that flowed out my lips and down past his perfect cock.

I was so engrossed in his cum in my mouth I almost--ALMOST--neglected to notice my own orgasm.  But it was impossible to ignore the massive spasms that shook my entire body as I unloaded my own sperm into Fr. Mike’s mouth, filling him below me like he was me.  If I thought I’d been shooting a lot into Stephen’s mouth, I was wrong, because this was real sex, and this was the most intense and longest lasting orgasm of my recent pubescent history.  My skinny hips thrust into him again and again and again as I overfilled his mouth until I collapsed in sexual exhaustion onto Fr. Mike’s body, my cock finally softening in his mouth, and his in mine.

I don’t know if I just rested or went to sleep or what, but some time later, I felt Fr. Mike shift position again, and then he was pulling me up and around so that I was sitting sideways on his lap, and then he kissed me.  I mean, he REALLY kissed me, and I kissed back, and we traded the cum that was still in our mouths and all over our faces, and then he pulled me tight against his chest and just held me close to him. We stayed like that for some time as the cum turned liquid and dripped down our bodies.  Mike had one hand around me, I had a hand on his soft dick, and he had one on mine.  I was idly rubbing the cooling cum around his dick and onto his belly.

I had forgotten all about Stephen, but I guess our sex fest had been pretty hot to watch, because he was hard again, his short dick poking straight up, peeking out of his pubic bush.

Fr. Mike told him to sit next to us and I moved my legs so he could slide under.  Once situated, Mike slicked up his hand with left over cum and started jerking him off.  His hand was plenty slippery, plus Stephen seemed to have produced some precum while he was watching us, so Mike was able to jack him hard, and that made Stephen cum hard as well.  Probably his biggest load yet spewed out of his dick, about three squirts that flew up into the air maybe six inches before falling back onto him, and then some more that flowed but didn’t squirt.  Mike moved his cummy hand to Stephen’s head (the big one) and pulled him into another hug, and the three of us just sat that way.  Naked, drained, covered in semen, sitting in the church undercroft with the priest-in-charge.  Whose dick was starting to get hard again.