The following story is fiction. Although some of the events depicted are based on actual happenings they are only incidental to the story and do not constitute a basis in reality.

The story is copyright, the reader may download a copy for his/her own use, but republishing or archiving on other websites or newsgroups without the author's permission is strictly prohibited. All rights are reserved.

The following story contains references to two men having strong emotional and physical feelings for each other. You shouldn't read it if you're below the age of consent in your community or if said community doesn't allow you to access such material.

The author would like to again thank Drew Hunt for his encouragement in the writing of this story. His love and friendship have been the motivating factors in the author's attempts at writing. He would also like to thank Drew and Tim Mead for reading, editing and correcting this work and for their continued faith in him as an author. T. O'Reilly 1/26/06.

terryo76@hotmail.com



Ministry


Randall stood on the porch waiting for the door to be answered. He was here for his weekly meeting with his pastoral leader, Bob. In The Fellowship to which he belonged everyone had a pastoral leader to look after their spiritual needs. Randall was also a pastoral leader for several men in The Fellowship. In the pecking order Bob was a district leader, Randall was under his direction and worked with men who had been in the fellowship fewer years than he. These men in turn were the pastoral leaders for their families.

He felt his nervousness increase as he waited. He was always nervous when meeting with Bob. It was not in his nature to talk about his inner most feelings and beliefs but he had been convinced that this was God's way of bringing him to his full potential. Bob was a good man. He seemed to sincerely care about Randall and his spiritual needs. It was just that some of Randall's needs weren't the kind you felt comfortable talking about.

The door finally opened.

"Randall, you know you don't have to ring the bell when you come here. Just come right in."

He'd been greeted by Bob's wife, Sharon. She was dressed as she always was when he came for his meetings: a housedress and apron, hair and make-up perfect and a warm welcoming smile on her face. She reminded him of Mrs. Cleaver from `Leave it to Beaver'.

"Thank you, Sharon, I know that, I guess but ... well my momma always taught me..."

"Now don't you go blaming this on that dear sweet mother of yours," Sharon said as she drew Randall into the house with the customary fellowship greeting of a side arm hug. "How is she by the way?"

"Very well, thanks, the fellowship prayers for her recovery from her hip surgery seem to be working."

"Praise the Lord," Sharon replied and raised both hands over her head.

"Bob is just finishing up his meeting with Ralph."

Ralph was one of the overall leaders of the fellowship.

"Can I get you some coffee while you wait?" Sharon offered, always the perfect hostess.

Randall politely refused the coffee. He wasn't much interested in seeing Ralph. Ralph had lead the team that had prayed for him for exorcism. It was Ralph who had discerned that Randall had some deep spiritual disturbance that was keeping him from full communion with God. After much prayer, sweating and four hours on his knees with three men leaning over him commanding the unclean spirit to reveal itself, Randall finally gave in and confessed that he was gay. There was much rejoicing that the demon had revealed itself and with shouts and commands of heavenly authority it was cast out.

He hadn't felt much difference immediately following the prayer session, but that night when making love to his wife he had achieved an erection without having to resort to a fantasy of some hairy chested muscle man with a nine inch cock and balls like King Kong. His joy was short lived, however, as when he came to his climax, images of Bob, whom, he had seen in the shower at a retreat, came rushing in. Bob, with his swimmer's body, tight, thick pubic hair and full round smooth ass pushed him right over the edge with such force that he almost cried out his name. So much for the effectiveness of exorcism.

Ralph came up from the basement office.

"Randall," he exclaimed embracing him in a full body hug. "Praise the Lord, so good to see you."

"Ralph," Randall replied returning the hug. Hoping the guilt he felt that he was still lusting after men in his fantasies and dreams wouldn't be revealed to Ralph's spiritual antenna.

"Sharon," Ralph continued. Evidently his spiritual gaydar was not turned on this afternoon as none of Randall's demons had revealed themselves. He hugged Sharon side arm fashion. "Praise the Lord."

"Amen," Sharon responded.

"Well, Randall. I'll let you get to your meeting with Bob. He has some great news for you. Great news."

Ralph hugged both Sharon and Randall once more. Praised the Lord again and left.

Randall smiled weakly at the lady and retreated down the stairs to Bob's office.

Here the hugs and the Lord's praises were repeated once again.

"Well, Randall, shall we start this time together in prayer?" Bob's greeting was warm and sincere.

"Yes."

"Dear heavenly Father..." Bob prayed for God's blessing on the time he and Randall spent together and that the Spirit would guide them in the things that they were to discuss.

"Amen," Bob intoned.

"Amen," Randall added.

"Let's start with a review of your week." This was standard practice for the pastoral leader and his subordinate. Making sure the daily Bible study and prayer times were being observed. Ensuring all familial obligations were adhered to. Being certain the spiritual well beings of all the men and their families under his supervision were being addressed.

Once Bob was assured that Randall was doing his duty to all under his care he got to the pit of the meeting.

"Randall, how are things going with your resistance to the sexual perversion that we were able to drive from your being?"

`Shit'. Was he going to admit that he fantasized about the man sitting before him frequently when he jacked off in the shower? Or that one of his spiritual charges was so hot that he got hard every time they were together and could hardly wait until he could lay hands on him when they prayed? Worse yet, was he going to admit he still had certain gay porn sites bookmarked on his computer and used them as masturbation material whenever the kids and his wife were out of the house? God forgive him... no way.

"Everything is just fine, Bob. God be praised. I am completely healed of all that sinful entrapment of the flesh." Randall wished he were in a position to cross his fingers without being observed.

"Praise the Lord."

"Yes, praise the Lord."

"Then, Randall, you feel you are strong in the Lord; able to resist any temptation that may come your way?"

"Yes," Randall hoped it was so.

"Then we, that is Ralph, the other pastoral leaders, and I, have decided that it is time that you be given a ministry."

Randall was dumbfounded. Only those who were truly proven to be strong in the Spirit were trusted to be given a ministry. He was both apprehensive and proud.

"We have had a number of calls," Bob continued, "from men afflicted with the same demons that possessed you. We don't expect you to perform a full-fledged exorcism yourself but we think you are ready to counsel those who are so afflicted and bring them to the point of requesting exorcism. Randall your ministry is to be to men, married like yourself who harbor desires that are an abomination to the Lord."

Randall didn't know how to respond. He was honored to have been chosen to have a ministry. But, then why was he getting hard just thinking about being with men like himself? He shifted in his chair to hide his growing tumescence.

"Well?" Bob was clearly expecting a response.

"If the Lord feels I am ready, then by his grace I will be," Randall replied.

"Then let us pray."

Bob dropped to his knees, Randall followed suit. Bob placed his hands on Randall's head and began to pray for strength, discernment and guidance as Randall embarked on his new crusade to spread the truth of God to the masses.

Bob returned to his chair. "I have several names and numbers of men who have called The Fellowship requesting help with their homosexuality." That was the first time, as far as Randall could remember, that it had been referred to as anything other than `that perversion.' Bob handed him an index card with a man's name and number.

Randall took the card. `Doug, married, with children.' He would free him from his bondage. Doug was his to... to what? Oh yes free him from his bondage.

"If you are successful with ...uh...Doug," he said leaning forward to look at the name on the card again, "I will give you the names of two other men who have requested ministry."

Bob and Randall discussed a few other issues regarding The Fellowship, prayed once more and went upstairs. Sharon with her brood of children was all smiles. More hugs and praises.

Randall returned home. He greeted his wife with the news that he was being given a ministry, sat down to dinner, led the family with devotions, helped get the children ready for bed and went to bed himself.

As soon as his spouse was in bed they began making love. Doug, and two other nameless men joined them. Randall fought them off but to no avail. When the pinnacle of excitement came he had to force his mouth shut.

(((((O))))))

Randall sat listening to the phone ringing through the earpiece of the receiver. His mouth was dry and he was sweating slightly. He was making his first contact with Doug. He was just about to hang up when a deep, masculine voice said, "Hello"

Randall froze. This was it, he was beginning his ministry but he couldn't say a word. `Lord help me, ' he thought.

"Hello, who is this," came the velvet voice again, this time tinged with a bit of irritation.

"Um hello." Randall's voice was thin and higher pitched than usual. `Oh great,' he groaned inwardly. "This is Randall. I am a member of the Word of the Light Fellowship. You are Doug?"

The voice at the other end immediately became warm and enthusiastic. "Yes, yes this is Doug. Oh, man I'm so glad you called."

"My pastoral leader, Bob, has asked that I contact you about some spiritual problems you've been experiencing?" Randall ended with a question in his voice, as he had been trained, to encourage Doug to share his need.

Doug didn't need any encouragement. He launched immediately into his sexual history with such vivid detail that Randall had a raging hard on in no time. This was as close as Randall had ever been to man to man sex, and this blow by blow (literally) description given by a live man was the most exciting moment of his sexual life. His underwear was soaked with pre-cum. He was sure that if he shifted, the stimulation of his cock by the fabric would cause him to climax.

When Doug paused, it took Randall a moment to realize he was expected to respond. He was so short of breath that he could only squeak. "Interesting."

"So, do you think you can help me? The guilt is driving me nuts. I'm afraid my wife'll find out I'm sleeping around and that'd be it... the shit would really hit the fan."

Randall tried to compose himself. He forced himself to lower his voice. He hoped he sounded sexier and less like an adolescent. Had he thought sexier? No, more mature.

"I certainly do." There that was better, voice lower, in control. "The Lord wants you to be free of this perversion and certainly he has the power to help you."

"Okay." Doug sounded hesitant. Had Randall come on too strong?

"Um... do you mind if I ask you something, Randall?"

Randall felt a pang of apprehension. "No," he said.

"Why were you chosen to be the one to help me? Do you have any special qualifications? You sound pretty young."

Randall's reaction to this was a mixture of defensiveness and panic. He'd been chosen by The Fellowship to fight the Lord's fight. So if God was on his side, age had nothing to do with it: think of David and Goliath. But, then what were his qualifications? He could only think of one. He was as queer as a rhino with wings. Should he tell Doug that? Why hadn't he thought of asking Bob for some advice before he rode off into the crusade?

"Well," He took a deep breath and said, "I have been in the same situation you are. With the Lord's help I have overcome it."

"Really?" came the reply. "So, you've been playing around with guys? You're gay?"

`Damn,' Randall's thoughts raced. I gave him the idea that I slept around. Since he'd never slept with anyone other than his wife there had been nothing to overcome. He certainly was still gay. He jacked off and fantasized every chance he got. Hell, he had just about cum in his pants at the sound of this man's voice. He decided to skip a response to playing around with guys and lie about the gay thing.

"I was, but I have been set free," he said hoping he sounded convincing.

Evidently he did as Doug responded with, "Fuck, I hope you can, cuz this guilt thing is about to do me in. When do we start?"

At the sound of the man saying the word `fuck,' Randall's cock twitched but he controlled himself and set up an appointment to meet Doug one afternoon the next week.

Every day that went by as Randall waited for the appointment was bittersweet. Randall couldn't keep from using that voice as a catalyst for masturbation or as the stimulus to push him over the edge when he had sex with his wife. He tried to match the voice with a visual image. It was clear that Doug was older: not a senior by any means but older. As he looked at pictures on the internet, he would conjure up the voice in his memory and try to associate it with the face in the photo. Pleasure mixed with guilt.

The night before the appointment Randall began to panic. He'd spent the whole week in sexual fantasy with a man he was supposed to be leading out of the darkness into the light. He should have been praying, fasting, seeking the Lord's guidance. Instead he was lusting after a phantom lover. He would call Bob and tell him he shouldn't do this. No, he couldn't do that. He would just have to trust the Lord would come to his aide in his weakness. Didn't it say somewhere in scripture that He is strongest when we are weak. `Where was that damn passage anyway?'

Doug worked as an occupational therapist in a hospital about 45 minutes from Randall. It was early April and there had been a freak snowstorm during the night. He'd called Doug, relieved there was a reason to cancel. It would give him more time to prepare himself spiritually. But as soon as he heard the voice, his resolve melted and instead told Doug that he might be a bit late because of the snow.

Randall parked the car in the visitor lot of the Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation Building, walked through the slushy snow to the entrance and took the elevator up to the third floor. He found the suite where Doug's office was located and walked up to the receptionist.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Mr. Carter."

"Do you have an appointment?" She frowned looking at the list of Doug's patients for that day.

"Yes."

"Which practice referred you? Mr. Carter is seeing his last patient of the day. I don't seem to have anyone else listed."

"Oh, I'm not a patient. I'm a ..." `A what? Spiritual counselor? Sex therapist? Insurance Salesman?' "friend of his. He's expecting me."

"Oh, I see," she said with what could have been a wink. `Did she know about his affliction? Did she think Randall was one of his special friends?'

"Name please?"

"Oh um." Randall couldn't think fast enough to do anything but tell the truth. But, then why shouldn't he. He wasn't one of Doug's playmates. He was here on legitimate business. The most legitimate of all. "My name is Randall Cummings from Weston."

The receptionist switched on the intercom. "Doug?"

"There's a Mr. Collins?" She looked at him.

"Cummings... from Weston."

"Cummings from Weston. He says he has an appointment to see you."

"I don't know any body named Cummings...

Randall had never noticed the sexual connotation of his last name until the moment when he heard Doug say it. Now he wished his name was Collins. He thought he was blushing as the secretary regarded him.

Oh wait, is his first name Randall?

"Yes."

"Now I know who he is. Just have him wait a minute I'm almost done here."

Randall sat down in the seat that the young woman indicated and waited. It couldn't have been more than five minutes but it seemed like hours. He could feel sweat running down his sides.

Finally the door opened and walking toward him was a six foot, two hundred pound Adonis with what had to be premature silver hair and a smile that caused Randall's toes to curl. Randall felt weak.

"Randy." Doug stuck out his hand and shook Randall's as he pulled him to his feet. "You don't mind if I call you Randy, right?"

At that moment, Randall didn't care what this man called him. He had never been this close to another gay man, that he knew of, and he felt like he was generating enough electricity to light the building.

Doug led him to an office off the main reception area. He indicated a seat, which Randall took, closed and locked the door behind him.

The room was large and had equipment in it that Randall assumed was used in Doug's work with his patients. There was a large desk in the corner covered with papers and folders. Certificates attesting to Doug's qualifications along with seascapes decorated the walls. Doug pulled the chair from behind the desk and sat directly in front of Randall with his legs spread. He was in hospital scrubs and they left only minor details to the imagination. These qualifications were as impressive as the ones on the walls.

"Let's get started," Doug said.

For the next hour Randall and Doug talked about Doug's life, his family, marriage. Randall tried to avoid much of Doug's sexual history as he already had a hard on and knew the pre cum was flowing. He was prepared this time, however. He wore a jock and had lined the inside with a Kotex just to be sure that there would be no slip ups. This worked to a point. However, the extra padding plus the erection gave Randall the look of one very hung stud. Doug had obviously noticed.

A further hour was spent in spiritual discussion, with Randall trying to explain God's position on the sin of homosexuality, and Doug wincing and not altogether accepting all that was being told him. By the time the appointment was drawing to a close however, Doug seemed to be open to further ministry.

"A week from Friday, he said, "my wife will be out of town at her mother's. I have to work and so I won't be joining her until Saturday. Maybe you could meet me for dinner here and we could go back to my place and pick up where we left off today?"

"Okay," Randall had some hesitancy about this, but the day had gone well. Maybe he was over his infatuation with the man and could get down to the business of saving his soul..

That hesitancy quickly returned however, when as he was about to leave, Doug took him in a full body hug. Telling him how much he appreciated Randall's taking so much time with him. As they stood, there bodies pressed together, Randall knew they were both aware that some parts of both their bodies were more than happy to be spending time together. He suppressed a shudder but allowed himself to breathe in the man's scent. It was intoxicating.

Doug walked him to his car. They shook hands and Randall left. He had no recollection of the drive back to Weston. All he could see before his eyes was the smiling face, the bulging crotch and the fine rear view he'd seen as Doug had walked away from the car.

(((((o)))))

It was the Thursday before Randall was supposed to see Doug again. He was at his weekly meeting with Bob, a day early to accommodate his appointment. He had decided to come clean with his pastoral leader. He knew he couldn't keep up the charade of not being gay any longer. He was gay. He knew it. He knew that Doug knew it. Their embrace the last time they had seen each other had given him ample proof of that. He was pretty sure he knew what would happen after dinner tomorrow if he went to Doug's house. He couldn't let that happen. He was a member of The Fellowship.

"So, how are things going with your ministry?"

It was Randall's mouth talking, but who was saying the words? "Bob, it's just going so well. Doug is so open to the truth that homosexuality is an abomination to the Lord. I really think there will be a major breakthrough tomorrow."

`No, no that isn't what I was going to say. The major breakthrough tomorrow won't be a spiritual one. It will be a physical one. What's going on here?'

"Well, praise the Lord. I knew you were the one for this ministry. Ralph had his hesitation but I told him you were strong in the Lord and `Randall could handle it'," Bob chuckled. "Randall could handle. Get it." He chuckled again.

Randall passed off his wince with a forced smile. Again he made an about face. Nothing had happened other than a hug of friendship at the end of that last meeting. He'd handled it. He had been strong. He could do this. What he was feeling was just from lack of experience. He wasn't gay any longer. Just... confused?

"Since you've done so well in your first assignment, here are the next two souls you will save from the jaws of degradation. Their names are... let's see, un Carl and Jason."

Randall left Bob, receiving more hugs and praises, the names and numbers of two more men to contact and went home to prepare for his meeting with Doug the next day. He did so by jacking off in the shower when he got home, making love to his wife accompanied by the faceless phantoms of Carl and Jason. He finished up his preparation the following afternoon by masturbating in the office lavatory just before leaving for his appointment. With the tanks dry there would be less temptation to backslide.

(((((O)))))

He saw Doug enter the restaurant. Immediately he knew all his preparation was to no avail. He was reacting at the mere site of him. Doug made eye contact and walked to the booth.

"Hi," he said extending his hand.

In Randall's mind he took the proffered hand and smothered it with kisses, licking between the fingers, sucking each one in turn. In reality he merely shook the extended hand and said, "Hi."

The meal passed pleasantly. Randall was totally distracted by the man sitting across from him. He couldn't have recalled one word of the conversation if his life had depended on it. But his memory of the meal was one of complete satisfaction.

Randall followed Doug to his house, parked in front and walked in the front door.

"Wine?"

`No, I shouldn't.' Randall thought. "Yes, please." He said.

"Red or white?"

"Red."

"Merlot or Shiraz?"

Since Randall didn't know one from the other he just said, "Whatever you're having."

He watched as Doug walked out of the room. That beautiful view once more doing things to his cock that the jock strap was holding in check.

When he returned he sat next to Randall on the couch. Very close to Randall on the couch. "Well, Randy, what do we do first."
Randall's mind reeled. `What do we do first, anything, everything.'

Randall wasn't used to drinking wine or any other alcoholic beverage. So, after having drunk only a few swallows he was feeling warm and relaxed.

"First, I think you need to understand the scriptural basis for why homosexuality is wrong."

"Okay, what did Jesus have to say about it?" Doug asked.

"Well, nothing. He never mentioned it."

"But, he did mention that being critical and judgmental was wrong, right?"

"Ah, yes. Yes, that is true."

"Okay go on."

"Well..."

"Hang on, let me get you some more wine."

`What the hell,' Randall thought. Once more the ass of his fantasies rolled out of the room.

Doug returned.

"Paul says..."

Doug interrupted again. "Don't some theological guys think Paul was all up tight cuz he was actually gay? I mean the thorn in his side and don't get married and all that."

"I suppose that some people might interpret it that..." It was getting very warm in the room and Doug's eyes were so very wonderful to look into.

Doug was continuing. "They say something about him being a Jew and going by all those rules in the Old Testament. You know like, don't eat pork, don't mix up milk and meat, don't work on Sunday and don't even touch a woman on the rag or you will be stoned."

"And," added Randall with a giggle and waggling a finger in Doug's face, " don't lie with a man as a man lies with a woman... it is an abomination to the Lord." He giggled again.

"Yeah but all the others were abominations, too. So, haven't you ever kissed your wife when she had her period? If you did you are abominated," He laughed.

He had a point Randall thought as Doug left the room once more to refill the glasses. Randall stroked himself.

When Doug returned, Randall was trying to actually find some of the few scriptures that referred to homosexuality as a sin. His fingers were having a bit of trouble with the fine paper pages of the book.

He took a sip of the wine and pointed to the passage he had found. "Right here it says that ..."

And that was as far as he got. Doug leaned over, took the book and turned Randall to face him.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned," he said with a smile and kissed Randall full on the lips.

Randall didn't know what to do or say. At first he started to pull away. Then he leaned into the kiss, his first from a man. Sky rockets and cherry bombs went off behind his eyes and in his head.

"You were saying?" Doug said with mock seriousness.

"Right here it says..." once again that was as far as Randall got. But, this time it was Randall who initiated the kiss. And this time Doug opened his mouth and let Randall's tongue explore its depths.

Doug stood up. He grabbed the edges of his Polo shirt and pulled it over his head.

Randall gasped as the beautiful silver haired chest appeared with its prominent nipples. Doug took both his hands in his. He placed Randall's hands on his chest and slowly moved them around. Randall was mesmerized.

Then Doug slowly dropped his pants. He was wearing Jockey low risers. His cock was outlined perfectly against the fabric. Randall could do nothing but stare. Doug pulled him forward and his face was crushed into Doug's genitals. Randall moaned with pleasure.

"Come on," Doug whispered pulling Randall to his feet. They went into the guest bedroom. There, Doug skillfully undressed his `mentor'. He laughed when he saw the jock strap stuffed with Kotex. But, when he removed it he wasn't disappointed. Randall was amply endowed. Then finally came the time when Doug pulled his Jockeys down and Randall saw the beautiful male member slap against his sculptured abs.

At ten o'clock Randall stood beside the bed with the phone in his hand. His face was chapped, there was dried cum on his chest and his ass was sore. But, he was happy: happier than he had ever been in his life. Outside the window the freezing rain pounded out its rhythm. `Praise the Lord,' he thought, `He doth provide in our hour of need.'

"Hi Honey, yeah its me. The weather is terrible. I better not try to drive home tonight. I'm gonna stay here at a Motel-6. Yeah the number is 555-3751," he read from an illuminated dial on Doug's bed-stand. "No, uh, you don't need an extension, it's a direct line into the room. Yeah, I miss you, too. Love you, see you tomorrow."

"You learn fast, said Doug, stroking Randall's ass as he hung up the phone.

"I had a great minister," Randall replied.

He crawled back into bed and snuggled deeply into Doug's warm rug of hair. He felt Doug's cock rising against his leg once more. `I guess I have more to learn,' he sighed.


Later, as he was falling asleep, wrapped tightly in Doug's arms, he thought of the index card in his shirt pocket, `Carl and Jason: would they be as much fun to minister to as Doug? Maybe I could arrange for group counseling.' He fell asleep.

The End.