This is an M/b story about a man and some boys having sex. You like such stories?, read on. If not, then what are you even doing here? GIVING IT ALL AT CHURCH ========================= Believe it or not, once upon a time I used to go to this really big church in town. It was one that had one of those faith healers that drew really big crowds from mostly the lower economic brackets. Well, one day I decided to volunteer for some work, so they made me an usher. The gave me a sport coat and a quick lesson on what to do and assigned me to one of the six sets of doors in the back of the auditorium. When the preaching started, most of the ushers would sit close to their assigned spots, some would go drink a cup of coffee and then return, and now and then one would just leave to go home if was already late. I would normally just sit and wait until the end of the service and say goodbye to the folks exiting through my door. One Sunday morning, during the preaching, this really handsome boy gingerly slid down the row of seats, exited through my door to the lobby and was gone for maybe 15 minutes before he returned. This wasn't unusual; everybody has to shit once in a while, so there wasn't any reason for me to distinguish him from some old man, except for me being a closet pedophile. That Sunday's sermon was lost on me because most of my thoughts were about what that boy was doing in the restroom so long. All I could imagine him doing was stroking his rod and shooting his wad all over the shiny floors. It was my turn to usher that Sunday evening, too. So there I was sitting in the back again when the preacher started his sermon. Just a couple minutes later, the same boy slides out of what I think was the same isle, walks past me and heads into the lobby. Without even thinking about it, the next thing I find myself doing is walking out of the door and following the boy into the restroom. He walks over to one of the urinals and I stand at the one next to him (they unfortunatly have partitions between them). I start the conversation with "Hi! Didn't I see you here this morning?" Startled, he looks over and says "Yea, I was here this morning, but I don't remember seeing you in here." "Oh no, I wasn't talking about the bathroom, I just saw where you sat in the auditorium." "Oh! Sorry. Yea, me and my folks have been coming here for a couple of weeks now." Some more conversation ensued and we spent the next 15 minutes standing at the urinals talking about nothing that matters except that the boy was 14 and his name is Josh. The next Sunday morning was a repeat. Josh walked out after the sermon started and I followed him into the bathroom, we stood at our assigned urinals and talked about stuff important to him, like that he had never had a girlfriend, he went to a private school and had no real friends in his neighborhood. I related that I'd rented a movie the night before and got home with it and discovered that there was an X-rated porno flick in the box rather than the PG rated movie that I'd rented. He asked if I'd watched it, and I told him that I had, but not to tell anyone. He asked if the movie "showed everything" to which I told him that it left nothing to the imagination. It was getting harder and harder for me not to come out and ask Josh if I could suck him off. Josh was the cutest and hottest boy I'd talked with in a long time. He stood about 5'6", maybe 120 pounds, longish blond hair and he had a hot shapely little ass stuffed in his pants. I kept wishing that he'd let me see his no doubt lovely cock. After all, he certainly should have known that something was up. Grown men don't usually meet teen boys in bathrooms just for conversation. The following Sunday evening when we went to the restroom, after we both had finished peeing, I suggested that we walk upstairs where the sunday school classes happen (only in the morning). While we were stolling down the deserted hallway talking, he saw another bathroom and went inside. I went in too. He walked in and started tugging at his jeans. I asked him, "What's up?" He said, "These are my favorite jeans and I like 'em tight, but I think maybe they're getting a little too tight." As he continued to twist and tug I asked "Where are they too tight at? They look fine to me." "See, they are pressing against my belly." He lifted his shirt revealing his smooth taught tummy. "I bet you couldn't even slip your hand in here if you tried," he continued, pointing to beneath his belly button. "Yea, they look pretty tight," I agreed. "Try it, see if you can get your fingers in here," he requested. This was as clear an invitation to feel him up as I had ever heard. I stepped closer and put the tips of my fingers against his warm belly just above his closed tight jeans. I slowly moved them down, plowing their way beyond Josh's waistband. I kept pushing more of my hand down until I began to detect some pubic hair at the end of my fingers. Only millimeters remained until I reached his manhood. One more little push and contact, his hardening prick was between two of my fingers. "I think I know why your pants are seeming so tight, its because you've got something growing in there," I said with a smile. "Yea, it has been getting bigger lately. Especially when I visit the bathroom with you," he answered with a grin. The next 30 seconds were a blur, but they ended with us in a stall, his jeans at his knees, and my mouth filled with his thin 6 inches of uncircumsized boycock. I gently fingered his low hanging hairless balls as his rod slid back and forth against my tongue. When the service ended that night, I wasn't quite as vocal in saying goodnight to the folks in my section. I didn't want them to smell the load of boycum that had filled my mouth only five minutes before the meeting ended. The next Sunday morning, as I was sucking my new favorite friend he told me that he might have a surprise for me that night. When evening rolled around, I ushered in my section as normal. When the time came for visitors to raise their hands, a hand went up close to where Josh sits. When the visitor card was passed to me, I was supposed to turn it in with the offering; instead I read it. It was from a 13-year-old boy named Marty. In the space on the card where it asked why they were visiting were the words "I want to experience the same thing my friend Josh has." When the sermon started, two boys slipped into the isle. They didn't return until after they had both given their best to an usher in an upstairs bathroom. -- Keith