Date: Mon, 2 Jan 2023 19:46:12 +0000
From: Philip Christensen <philip.christensen@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: A religious experience

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It was the summer after our compulsory military service. Massimo and I
had both returned the same day to a hero's welcome that might have made
you think we'd won a war. It was good to see him. It had been the
longest time that we'd been separated since we started school.

It seemed clear where we were heading: all the men in our little village
in Apulia worked in the quarry. We got ourselves a couple of months'
respite before serious life would start. Of course we both had dreams: I
wanted to be a painter and Massimo had aspirations to become a
professional cyclist. Do the Giro d'Italia, maybe even the Tour de
France. But we both knew that those dreams were not for boys from
Muralto.

Confession was Monday nights in our village church and my mother was
surprised and glad to see me head for the church. "Most boys these days
don't go anymore." she complained. "But you're a good boy, Matteo."
I protested despite the compliment. "Mamma, I am a man now. I've done
my military service."

But I felt like a little boy as I sat in the box. "Father I have
sinned." I started. Father Emilio encouraged me to tell him exactly how
I had sinned. He had only recently been assigned to our parish. He was
freshly ordained and couldn't have been more than five or six years
older than myself. "I bought two chocolates from Signora Barbara's shop
for my sister. Only, when I got home I noticed that a third chocolate bar
had stuck to them. I went back to the shop to pay for the third one but
Signora Barbara wouldn't take any payment. So I couldn't pay for the
chocolate which surely means I stole it." Father Emilio said that as
I'd offered to pay and she refused payment really it wasn't stealing so
much as an indirect present. But he sensed that that wasn't the real
reason I'd gone to confession.

"Is there anything else?" he asked. I didn't know where to start. "My
friend wanted me to shave his legs, he's a cyclist." I began. Father
Emilio encouraged me to go on. "I was only going to shave up to where
his cycling shorts come but he said it looked ridiculous and he was
right." I continued. "So I shaved all the way up and as I was doing so,
he got the way boys... men sometimes get. I thought he would be
embarrassed but on the contrary he asked me to `help him out'." I
blushed just thinking about it but Father Emilio didn't seem to
disturbed. I wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible so the
only other thing I said was that I did as he asked. Father Emilio said
that this was indeed a grave sin. He told me to say five Hail Marys now
but that wouldn't be enough. I needed to come back for a special kind of
confession. I should seek him out on Wednesday at 5pm in the sacristy of
the church.

I hardly slept the next two nights, certain I would go to hell. On
Wednesday I went straight back to church and got there 10 minutes early.
Even so, Father Emilio was already there. He took me to the sacristy and
locked the door. "I will need you to show me exactly what you did with
your friend.", he started and took off his black robe, down to his
t-shirt and underpants. In those days people didn't use deodorant, at
least not in rural Italy, and as it was another hot day, sweat patches
had formed on his t-shirt and I could smell the musty manly scent. He
stood there for a moment, seemingly unsure what to do next. His arms were
quite hairy but nothing against his legs, which were the hairiest legs I
had ever seen.

Slowly he took off his underpants and exposed a semi-erect penis. There
was lots of hair on his sack as well and as far as I could see, all over
his backside too. He looked at me and said: "You're confused. Don't
be. This is a consecrated building and nothing that happens in here is a
sin. My body has been blessed by the bishop so again, there is nothing
sinful about any part of it. But in order to understand how you have
sinned, you will need to demonstrate exactly what you did with your
friend. Imagine you have shaved my legs. What happened next?" Shaving
those legs would take all day, I thought but I answered: "He asked me to
take it into my hand and I did." He became slightly impatient: "Go on
then, do to me what you did to him." I did as I was told and touched his
member that was now standing up almost vertically. It was thicker than
mine and -- as I now knew -- longer than Massimo's. I gingerly started
to do a couple of strokes. "Was that all you did?" Father Emilio asked.
I blushed: "No, Father, I took it in my mouth as well." He seemed
concerned: "That is another grave sin. I will need you to do the same
thing to my blessed body so that you can be cleansed." I bent over to
reach the tip of his cazzo but that didn't really work so I got on my
knees. I took his helmet into my mouth and started to apply some pressure
with my lips and tongue. "Did your friend do anything?" He asked and I
replied that yes, he'd started to move in and out of my mouth a bit.
Father Emilio said that everything had to be exactly the same so he
started to move as well. After a while he asked if my friend had spilled
his seed in my mouth and I tried to nod with my mouth full. That was a
sort of signal for him and he shot a load right down my throat so that
all I could do was to yank my head back and swallow. I asked if this was
all. Father Emilio smiled and said: "My blessed semen has now washed
away your impurity. You may leave." He got dressed and unlocked the door
for me.

I didn't know what to make of it. All I know is that as soon as I got
home I went to my room and replayed the experience in my mind over and
over. It felt good to be absolved but it led to further sins. I was
touching my own cazzo thinking about his. No adults had ever mentioned
that thing where you make a tube with your hand and rub until you shiver
and spill your seed. This could either mean that it's no big deal (which
was unlikely) or that it was such a grave sin that it couldn't even be
mentioned. All I knew was that all the boys I knew back in school did it
because it was all we talked about in break times. That night my orgasm
was the most intense I'd ever experienced.

I convinced myself that it must be a horrible sin and went to confession
again. Through the screen I could see Father Emilio make a concerned
face. He told me to come and see him again outside of the confessional
booth on Wednesday. Again he locked the door. "The sin of homosexuality
is deeper in you than I feared. We will have to drive it out in more than
one session. Now this may hurt a bit to begin with but you will know when
the healing starts." Without saying anything further he undressed
completely and then asked me to do the same. His cazzo was already hard
and I noticed to my horror that mine was too. I didn't want him to see
me like this but once again he said that because of where we were and
because he had been ordained it was not a sin.

"Here's some of the wine left from mass on Sunday and I've prepared
some incense as well. They'll relax you a bit." I drank the wine. He
got behind me, holding a small bottle of olive oil which he smeared on
his hard penis, and then with his greasy fingers he slowly made his way
towards my dirt hole. The oil was sticky and cold but as he entered my
hole first with one finger, then another one I felt ready to be cleansed
by his male member. He carefully replaced his fingers with his cazzo. It
hurt like hell but he said that that was the devil protesting. I needed
to welcome his blessed body in me to drive the devil out. I relaxed a bit
more and I knew what he meant about knowing when the healing starts.
Slowly to begin with, then faster and harder he pushed into me. The pain
was gone -- I never wanted him to leave me. My cazzo that had flagged a
bit was rock hard again. I moved my hand towards it but Father Emilio
told me not to. He needed to fill my with his blessed semen first,
otherwise it would all be for nothing.

On and on he went and I wanted him to fill my whole body, it felt so
right, so holy. Eventually I could tell that he could hold back no longer
and shot his semen up my ass. I didn't want him to withdraw and he
didn't. Instead he touched my cazzo and rubbed it back and forth like I
had done so many times. Before long I squirted my own semen across the
floor and onto a bowl with communion wafers that I hadn't noticed there
before. I was mortified but Father Emilio said we would just have to eat
one each and that would complete the cleansing ritual. "Did you enjoy
that?" he asked. With post-coital honesty I said `yes' which made him
frown. "This really isn't for enjoyment. If you enjoyed it we will have
to do it again. Come back here next Wednesday and we'll try again. I
hope you know what a sacrifice I'm making to save your soul." I said I
did and he let me go.

The next few days passed in a daze. I tried not to think of what had
happened but my mind kept wandering back to the scene. It was the same
every time: my penis got very hard and my back hole kind of opened up in
anticipation. I feared that this would lead me straight to hell so at
least I didn't make the hand tube. But twice that week I woke up in the
middle of the night with my pyjamas sticky from the result of a dream
that I only half-remembered but was very embarrassed about. I had a hard
time trying not to let my mother see the stains.

Next Wednesday came. This time Father Emilio had everything prepared in
advance. The olive oil was there, as was the chalice with the wafers and
when I arrived there was already a smell of incense. Father Emilio gave
me a glass of mass wine. He seemed rather more relaxed this time himself
and I wondered if he'd helped himself to a glass as well. This time I
knew to pretend that I'd hated the experience. Father Emilio wasn't
fooled though. He grabbed my crotch and felt my hard cazzo. "You are
hard work." he sighed, as he took of his surplice, "this may not be the
last session we will have to do. But we'll see." Looking at this
underpants I could see that he himself was already in a position to
perform the cleansing ritual. He told me to turn round and drink the
wine. Once again I could hear him getting ready with the oil and then
gently rubbing it onto my ring as well. One finger went in, then a
second. It was still a very unusual feeling but I couldn't wait for his
cock to follow. Finally, he pushed in his head. It hurt again but not as
long as the first time. Almost immediately he started moving in and out,
in and out, a bit unsure at first but finding his rhythm and really
getting going. I was glad that I'd found a priest who took his pastoral
care so seriously. Eventually his blessed semen filled my hole again and
he made me squirt as well.

We had the wafers and he once again asked me if it was a good experience.
Of course I said `no', even though that should have meant it was the
last time we'd done this, and also as a lie was another sin. Father
Emilio wanted to make sure, so he said maybe we should try one more time
next Wednesday.

The Friday that week, Massimo and I went cycling. That is to say, I went
cycling, he went racing but he was good enough a friend to wait for me at
regular intervals. At midday we found a place to have the lunch our
mothers had prepared for us. Lovely panini, made with the local cured ham
and delicious cheese. There was something I needed to know. I asked
Massimo: "Do you still go to confession?" He said that his mother made
him but he didn't really believe in it. I wanted to know what he'd
confessed. "Oh you know, the odd lie I've told. Lying is easiest to
confess to I find." This was disappointing: he hadn't even mentioned
the incident after the leg shaving.

When he asked me what I confessed to, my instinct said to just tell him
the story of the accidental theft but I plucked up all my courage and
told him that I'd mentioned what happened when he asked me to shave his
legs. He suddenly seemed very interested. I told him all that happened
and how Father Emilio was trying to make me a better person. Massimo
didn't judge me for telling the priest but after I'd finished he asked:
"So this is how he relieves you of sin?" I said yes, Father Emilio was
very nice that way. "Matteo," Massimo said "you are just too good for
this world." I asked him what he meant. He said: "So this guy gets a
blowjob off you, gets to fuck you up the ass and you're telling me he
gets nothing out of it? In terms of taking away the sins of the world
it's not exactly Jesus dying on the cross, is it?" I was shocked at
Massimo's coarse language. He must have picked that up in the military
service. But I had to concede with sudden embarrassment that he had a
point. How could I have been so blind? Of course I wasn't the only one
enjoying our sessions. That's why he told me to come back again.

"For what it's worth", Massimo said, "I understand him and I'm a
little bit jealous. That blowjob was fantastic. I wish I could get
another one." I pointed out that the hair on his legs was growing back
and that we should probably shave it again. "Oh yes", he said with a
glint in his eye, "and everything else."

The next day I went over to Massimo's house. I expected to have a
conversation with his mother as usual and then after an hour or so go up
to his room. But Massimo was impatient this time and ordered me upstairs
almost immediately. He shouted over this shoulder: "Don't disturb us,
mamma! We've got man things to do." His mother smiled the same way mine
had when I told her I was a man now. As soon as we got to his room,
Massimo started to strip off. The razor and shaving foam stood there
prepared next to his bed on which he'd put a plastic sheet so as to
protect the bedsheets. He lay down face down. I started to lather his
legs up and then slowly shaved the back of both legs. Eventually it was
time to turn around. I hadn't noticed that Massimo's cazzo had got
hard. But there was certainly no hiding it now. Not that he had any
intention to hide it. "This will need attention later as well." he
grinned.

I finished shaving his legs and dried them with a towel. Massimo asked:
"Where do you want it?" Last time I was too confused to notice much but
now I had time to look at his cazzo. It looked incredibly hard and there
was a big thick vein all the way down. I found to my surprise that I
actually wanted him. I asked how his question was meant. "Mouth or ass?
I'll take away your sins every which way you want me to." Even now I
thought it quite blasphemous that he mocked Father Emilio with the words
he had used. I was embarrassed and blushed, but I also really really
wanted Massimo to do what Father Emilio had done. "Ass" I whispered.
"Good choice", Massimo replied. He came over and pulled my pants down.
I turned round and held on to his bedside table, like I'd done in the
church. Unlike Father Emilio he was in no rush. I was surprised to find
his tongue making its way up my crack. He found my hole and wet it,
pushing his tongue in gently but persistently. I wanted him more than
ever. I found that my hole was responding and almost sucking his tongue
in. The feeling was incredible.

Just when I thought the feeling of wanting him couldn't get any more
urgent, he produced a small bottle of olive oil and started rubbing it
into my hole and on his cazzo. I had never looked forward to anything as
much as this in my life. Time seemed to stand still as he gently pushed
against my hole. I felt my hole starting to welcome him. And then he
entered me. Nothing I'd ever experienced in my life could compare this,
not even Father Emilio. It felt as if the universe was working in the
right way. There was a little bit of pain to begin with but that gave way
to the most intense warm feeling. He seemed to know what he was doing
even though he couldn't have been much more experienced than me. He
started pushing gently in and out and whispered in my ear: "Is this
okay?" All I could give in reply was a lustful grunt. My own cock had
gone soft when he entered me but now got up again and was soon harder
than ever.

Massimo was a gentle and patient lover and kept going for what seemed
like hours, feeding me his lovely cazzo time and again, our bodies
sticking together with the sweat we produced between us. I never wanted
him to stop. But just when I felt like I couldn't resist touching my own
cock any longer, I felt him explode inside of me. He pushed in harder
four or five times and I was afraid he would pull out. To my delight,
however, he stayed in and slowly started rubbing my cazzo. It didn't
take long for me to squirt all over the plastic sheet over the bedspread.
Now Massimo slowly pulled out of my hole and started licking my semen,
keeping it in his mouth. He turned me around and opened my mouth, letting
me taste my own cum in a long kiss.

We lay there in each other's arms for a long time. Both too exhausted to
talk but there was no need. After a long silence I thanked Massimo.
"What for?" he asked. "For showing me that no matter what anyone says,
this just feels right. I want to do this again and again." Massimo
agreed. The week after I didn't go to Father Emilio. For a moment I
thought about going and telling him I'd found a better lover but there
didn't seem much point in winding him up.

That week Massimo and I decided not to follow our fathers and
grandfathers and work in the quarry but to move to Rome together. Sure,
we would have to work out how to earn money but it would work out
somehow. And it did. I found a job as a waiter pretty soon and Massimo
worked first as a postman during the day and after his night school
degree, went to university where he rose all the way up to professor. I
am so incredibly proud of him. I have mixed feelings about Father Emilio.
He took advantage of me, yes, but without him Massimo and I may never
have started what made us so happy.