SHOWER FIRST, CONFESS LATER
(Father Patrick 02)
by Marc Tremaine
WARNING: If you are offended by sex between teenaged boys, or between a man and a teenager, you shouldn't be in this newsgroup and you definitely shouldn't be reading this story. If this type of sex is illegal, immoral or fattening in your particular state, province, country, or bedroom, stop reading now and go away. If, according to your local laws, you're under age, no fair peeking below. This story is a fantasy, and any resemblance to any particular man, boy or penis is just your over-active imagination.
Copyright (c) 1997 by Tremaine. All rights reserved. You have the right to download this story to keep on your computer, and to print a hard copy if you preserve the title, warning and copyright notice. You do _not_ have the right to repost this, pass it on to anyone, or use it for commercial purposes, that is, you can't try to make a buck off my work. The only thing you have my permission to do with this story (besides the obvious one) is stated above and nothing more. Get it? Got it? Good.
Flames will be ignored. Constructive comments are always welcome.
Shower First, Confess Later
The shower room was old; the tiles on the wall were worn and cracking in places, and the floor was concrete sloping down to a drain in the middle of the room. But at least the water heater worked well. The two showers that were running full blast produced hot water that nearly filled the room with steam. The two studs fucking in the middle were almost hidden by it -- almost, but not quite. The young boy who accidentally found himself spying on them could see what they were doing, but he couldn't tell who they were. But there was something familiar about the blond hunk who was getting his ass brutally fucked by a stud dick that seemed to be a couple of inches wide as it plowed roughly in and out of the blonde's taut, muscular ass.
And it wasn't another man getting fucked. The young boy suddenly recognized the voice. It was Ken, the team's star quarterback who was getting royally fucked and loving every second of it! Ken moaned as he grasped his left knee tighter to balance himself and beat his own hard prick. "Fuck me, stud," he moaned loudly. "Oh, yeaaaahhh, shove that stud father dick up this hot boy hole. Ram that boy fucking cock home!"
The man on top just grunted and started thrusting harder. He was powerfully built, with hairy legs and a smooth masculine butt. The watching boy caught glimpses of dark curling hair on his chest, but since the steam hid the man's face, the boy focused on the long, wide cock and the huge balls. He'd never seen anything like this before; hadn't even thought it was possible, but his own dick was suddenly hard inside his gym shorts and jock. The boy reached down and unconsciously began massaging his own stiff meat while the fuck scene got even better, the man ramming his meat faster and faster into the squirming hole in front of him until the two fuckers went over the edge, moaning and grunting their lust as they shot enormous loads of cum simultaneously. And so did the watching boy!
The two fuckers were loud enough that they shouldn't have heard anything else but their own cries -- only they did. The man quickly pulled his huge meat out of Ken's cum-slimy ass and turned to face the shower. Ken staggered a little at the loss of all the fuckmeat up his shitter and then turned to stare at the open door...right into the eyes of the boy who had been watching them.
Ken lost no time. His still-hard prick thrusting out in front of him, he quickly moved over to the boy, blocking the view of the shower room and the man inside, and then grabbed the boy's shoulder and pulled him into the locker room. The boy was too surprised to resist, and hung his head. "Now, look...uh, what's your name, kid?"
The boy just murmured, "Carl," without looking up. He couldn't. He was mesmerized by the huge prick that was just starting to go soft, and the plump, hairy balls, with the thatch of golden crotch-hair plastered against Ken's balls and belly from the steam and sweat. Ken started to open his mouth to tell the boy he had to keep quiet about what he had seen, but suddenly he realized that the boy wasn't just bashful, he was staring at Ken's cock! And the front of the boy's shorts had a nice, fresh stain...a cum stain right at the tip of a clearly-outlined slender prick. However much the kid had seen, he sure the fuck liked it! Ken's prick immediately started rising.
"You turned on by us, Carl?"
"No! I..." The boy still wouldn't look up, but he was beginning to breathe a little heavier at the sight of Ken's cock starting to surge to full staff, and the boy's own rod was beginning to stiffen again, too.
"Your dick says different." Ken reached down with one hand and groped the slender boymeat under the shorts. The boy gasped and tried to pull away.
"Uh, no, please, please don't. It's wrong, it's...."
Ken's grip was too strong, though. "Uh-uh, Carl. It isn't wrong, it's fun. And you'd like some of that hot action, too, wouldn't you?"
"No. Please, no. Let me go." The boy twisted and tried to get away, but Ken let go of the young prick and grabbed the boy's shoulders. He moved close so his dripping cock was almost touching the boy's chest.
"You ever beat your meat, kid?"
Carl stopped squirming, and just nodded.
"Well, then, grab ahold of your meat and show me how good you are."
Once again, Carl tried to get away, but Ken was too strong. "Look, kid, you know your dick is hard and so is mine. So be a buddy and help me get my rocks off. Now do it!" Ken's voice had gotten rough, and he shook the boy's shoulders a little on the last sentence. "Pull your pants down, kid. Lemme see your stiff meat."
Hesitantly, the boy did as he was told. With both hands he shoved his gym shorts and jock down past his skinny hips, releasing a slender young cock in all its hard horny glory, while Ken pulled the boy's tee-shirt over his head.
The boy's young flesh was soft and gleaming white and smooth. "Beat your prick, Carl. Pump that meat while I pump mine." Ken's left hand caressed Carl's neck and shoulders, stroking down across his tender young tits.
Ken moved in close, bending his legs so that his thrusting prick was up at an angle, the head rubbing the boy's silky-smooth chest, while down below, he could feel the boy's prickhead pushing against his thighs and then his hairy balls. Ken knew he wasn't going to last long, even though he'd just cum. Not with such hot young dick in front of him. But he'd last long enough that the kid wouldn't notice the man moving quickly out of the shower, and into the lockers, grabbing his clothes so that he could hurriedly dress and leave.
And it was only a few moments later that Ken's meat exploded, splashing hot cum all over the boy's chest and sliding down to his belly. Stunned at the feeling, the boy's own rod began pumping, too, spurting large wads of white gism on Ken's thighs and balls. Chest heaving, Ken moved his hands down to the boy's waist, as soon as they were finished shooting, and then held Carl still while he bent over to lick his own cum off the boy. Then he pulled up Carl's shorts, tucking the kid's softening prick inside the cum-stained jock. He picked the boy's tee-shirt off the floor and handed it to him.
Ken backed off, and in spite of himself, the boy's eyes were still glued to the quarterback's rod. "You like that, Carl?"
"I...no...we shouldn't...it's...." The boy was almost sobbing, despite the fact that his body was tingling all over from two cums that were better than anything he'd ever done just beating his meat by himself.
"Look, kid, we're just two guys who helped each other out. No big deal. But some people might not like it, so you're gonna keep your mouth shut, aren't you?"
"About everything today? `Cause if you and I are gonna be buddies, like I think we oughta be, we gotta keep quiet about each other. Right?"
Carl nodded again, but his expression was confused.
"Look, Carl, if you, well, if you feel bad, go to confession. Talk to Father Patrick. That's what I do."
Carl looked up at Ken's face hopefully. "You do?"
"Yeah. Whenever I'm feeling this way, he takes care of things."
"O...okay." The boy was looking better, and somewhat relieved. "I won't say anything. I promise. I mean...except in confession."
"Good. But tell Father Patrick everything. He'll make you feel better."
The football player and the freshman separated. Ken went back under the shower to clean up, so that he could get back upstairs and try to explain why he'd missed algebra class. He didn't think Sister Anne would accept the excuse that he'd been getting buttfucked in a shower and lost track of time.
Fortunately for Carl, he had just finished gym class and was supposed to have gone to study hall. He could always claim he had gone to the library. Carl dressed quickly, not bothering to shower, although he scraped off some of the cum inside his jock, so it wouldn't be quite so obvious when his mother washed it. He didn't understand why he got another hardon when he did.
Carl had to wait a couple of days until he found out that Father Patrick was going to hear confessions. He was nervous about talking to the priest, who was new at the school this year. He was a big man, with short hair and sharp dark eyes; kind of frightening in a way, but Carl told himself that Ken wouldn't lie to him. So Carl waited until he was the only one in the church, except for Ken, who had gone into the confessional a few minutes ago. From the shadows, Carl watched the door open, and Ken finally came out. Carl couldn't help himself, even though he knew it was wrong. The first thing he looked right at was the huge mound of Ken's prick and balls, which were showing clearly under the football player's tight jeans. With his right hand, Ken reached down and adjusted himself, almost like he was playing with his meat in the empty church, and then with a slight smile on his face, he sniffed the palm of his left hand, gave it a slight lick of his tongue, and headed toward the door.
Carl nervously entered the confessional, uncertain why his cock was twitching like it wanted to get hard. It wasn't supposed to get hard when he was going to confession!
Moments later, he found himself pouring out everything to the priest, although he didn't use Ken's name. When he stammered or came to a halt, a question for more details would get him started again. And then he was done. There was a long silence. "Am...am I going to hell, Father?"
Father Patrick's voice was deep and very soft, even though the church was now empty. "No, my son. These are things that happen to many boys."
"But all these thoughts, and beating off while I'm thinking about...."
"Are you thinking those thoughts now?"
"No!" But the boy's denial rang a little false. "I wouldn't. It's...it's wrong."
"It wouldn't be the first time I've had that happen in confessional, though. I remember one boy, a little older than you, very handsome, he came in to confess that he had been having sexual relations with a man. He told me how he had been getting his butt fucked regularly."
The priest paused and Carl almost gasped. He'd never heard a priest use language like that before. But somehow it made him excited.
"And then he told me that during confession, while he was talking about what had happened, his dick had gotten hard. And he told me that while he was confessing he had unzipped his pants and pulled his meat out, and he was beating off. He said it was a real turnon to beat his hard dick while he was in the confessional with me. He said he was imagining me pulling up my robe, and pulling out a big, long cock with big hairy balls, and beating my own hard meat while he was confessing. He even started breathing a little harder while he talked. Are you breathing a little harder, Carl?"
"I...uh...yeah." Carl was breathing harder. His prick was standing up firm and hard and he was feeling all hollow and horny in his gut.
"Are you pulling out your stiff boycock like he did, Carl? Are you stroking that smooth dick?"
Carl was. It was almost like the priest had given him permission. Carl's dick was in his right hand, and he was playing with his balls with his left hand. The priest's voice was hypnotic in the dim light.
"The boy told me about all the times he had been fucked since his last confession. And about getting to suck his man off while he beat his own meat. And how if he was really good, he'd get to slide his hot horny young dick up the man's butthole and pump a hot load of cum up there. And then the boy told me he was getting close to cumming. And that he was imagining me starting to get close, too, whipping off a good cum in my hand, just like he was going to. Is that what you're imagining, too, Carl? Are you getting close to spurting a load in your hand?"
Carl was breathing hard, now. His hand was whipping back and forth on his meat. "Oh, God, yes, I'm...I'm gonna cum, father!"
"That's what the other boy told me, Carl. And then he said he was shooting a hot load of cum in the palm of his hand, just like he thought I was doing. Is that what you're doing, Carl."
"Yes, yes, father!" And Carl was! His left hand was almost full to overflowing with his shiny white gism. And when he got his breath back, he heard the priest's voice describing how the other boy had licked and slurped his own cum out of the palm of his hand, after stroking and draining the last drop from his meat. Carl did the same.
"But that was just a fantasy, Carl." The priest's voice was suddenly flatter and harder. "I gave him extra penance for pretending to commit a sexual act in the confessional. Just like you pretended, Carl. So you will have extra penance, too." The priest's voice became warm and comforting again. "But I also want you to come to me for counseling. Just like that other boy. I can help you. Will you do that?"
Carl was thoroughly confused now, despite the glow from a tremendous cum. "Y...yes, Father."
"Come to see me tomorrow after school."
Carl straightened his clothes and stepped out of the confessional. With his right hand, he finished adjusting his prick and balls, and then he licked a last smear of cum off his left hand -- just like Ken! Maybe it was Ken the priest was talking about. Maybe he had done the same thing. Maybe....
As Carl left the church, the priest leaned back in the confessional and lifted a large cupped hand to his lips. He sniffed his still-warm cum and gently began lapping it up. He smiled at the thought of Ken's "confession." Ken hadn't had much to say, considering the fact that his mouth was full of priest dick. So far, the fact that Father Patrick had altered this confessional so that the window between the two stalls could actually open, was their secret. It was a real turnon to stand there with his hard meat through the opening and that hot teenaged mouth sucking him off, while Ken filled his own hand with a hot load of cum just when the priest shot. Father Patrick finished with the "second cumming," and stuffed his big meat back inside the jock he wore under his robes. He was looking forward to the next day.