Date: Wed, 26 Aug 2020 11:27:08 +0000 (UTC)
From: ozorli65@aol.com
Subject: My Priest, My Lover (1)

This is a fictional story of a priest of my youth. I don't recall his
name as I was a kid when I saw him. But he was one if my first crushes as
a boy who would related realize he was gay.
But this priest did look quite a bit like Alfonzo Herrera that played
Father Tomas in the Exorcist series. Another gorgeous latin man I have
seen in a few things.
This is but a fantasy of a man of the church I had a crush on in my
youth. So I really doubt he was gay. But then again with the Catholic
church such a mess nowadays with sexual allegations and such. One may
never really know.
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My Priest, My Lover (1)
Returning Home...

  I would have never imagined that I would be laying here in bed with
him. Here in a relationship with him. Here with the most luscious man I
had ever known. Father Tomas.
Yes I said father Tomas. Tomas Ortega was the priest at my mothers
favorite church. We had been going there since as long as I can remember.
Me as a boy forced to go as I was a non believer. I found religion to be
such BS, even as a boy. But my parents wanted me to find God. That was
almost futile. But I went to church every week.
And even today I still question it all. Religion is still just a grave to
me. Even with Tomas lying there next to me. I consider myself someone who
needs the proof of it to believe. Just like I don't believe in aliens
because there is not justifiable proof or it. This is my views on
religion. The stories in the bible are just that, stories. Written by sad
old men that couldn't get laid. Stories that made little sense and
contradicted itself on every other page.

"Such fools people are" I would always say.

But I never cared or minded peoples believe and hope for a God to save
them from their dreary mortality. A promise of a paradise after death. I
didn't know what happened after death. Only that there was no paradise.
Just an eternal sleep.
No. I let people have their silly faith in something that probably did
not exist. I just didn't like them pushing that shit on me.

"I just don't believe" I said to my mother once
"There is no proof."
"Its like believing in dragons and fairies"

It cut my mother to the bone for me to say such things. That her God was
fake. But as I grew older and just stopped going. When I told her I was
gay, she just prayed for me and all my sin.
And when I moved out at 18, I swear it killed her. And I just stopped
seeing her after that. And I never returned to church again. That was
until my mother passed away.

"Ohh" I said softly to the voice on the phone
"When.?"
"Okay. I will be there"

It was my sister that called me. She was older than me by a few years,
and really the only one in my family I still had contact with. We were
estranged for a while after i left. But she still cared for me. And I
still cared for her.
Eva called me out of the blue at a time that I was going through yet
another break up. I seemed to have the worst luck with guys and
relationships. None lasted. And I assumed it was me. Or them. Or maybe
god was punishing me somehow.

"Ha. God punishing me" I said to myself with a laugh
"That is silly"

Well whatever it was. I couldn't keep a relationship if my life depended
on it. And now I was getting the call from Eva saying mom had died.
The thing was I never really hated my mother. She was just another silly
full following that silly book and the churches lies.
Hell, even Eva fell out if religion too after she lost her baby at
childbirth. But she always still went to church with mom. Dutifully so.
But as my sister told me the grim news if my mothers passing I sat there
after the phone call. Just staring at some pictures I had kept from my
youth. I was sad for a bit. And actually hope at that moment that there
was a God so he could take her to that soft pillowy heaven you always saw
in movies. Fluffy clouds and white gowns.

"Hope you find heaven mom" I said to the sky
"I really hope you do"

I was to go to my home town where mother had stayed and died. I had left
it years ago to go to the big city and where being gay was far more
accepted.
The funeral was going to be on a lovely spring day and the services would
have held at the church my mother loved so much. The place she went every
Sunday like clockwork to hear the priest speak about her God.

"Ughn. Father Martinez" I huffed

This was a guy I never liked. He was this bigger heavyset dude that was
always shouting about how we all sinned and we all had to repent at the
knees if God to be saved. This dark haired kind of creepy looking
priest.
Heck if ever there was a guy that looked like a child molesting priest .
He fit the bill. Even though he had a clean record as priests go. I just
thought he was a whitehead.

"I hope that shit is not there" I said
"He is a total homophobic fuck"
"Always preaching his condemnation of homosexuality"
"Fuck you father Martinez"

But I was not to see the him as he was gone. For when I got there to go
to my moms funeral he was no longer there. He too had passed away. Cancer
of something like that. Then I was glad the I had left. Seemed like
everyone was dropping off like flies. My father some years back. I had
just left out on my own the first time when he went. But I dis not come
to his funeral. I could not stand hum much either. And the feeling was
mutual.
And my sister had gone off to say how many more people from the town had
also passed away in the years since I had left.

"Yeah. Glad I left" I said to her
"Surprised you didn't"
"Someone had to stay and take care of mom" she bit back

Well my sister had aged and gained some weight. 2 kids and a husband,
Jake. He worked at the local mill and was decent looking guy. So I
figured at least she had him.

"Hell I'd fuck her husband" I said to myself.

Jake greeted me but wasn't all that friendly. So I took it as he was
taught to hate gays like most everyone else. I saw a few other people
from my past when we got to the church for the service.
And then I saw him. Tomas. I didn't know who he was but I sure saw this
smoldering dark haired piece of gorgeous maleness.

"Who the fuck is that" I thought to myself

I immediately felt my crotch twitch at the hot man standing at the
entrance to the church I hadn't been in in years. He was tall and had
black hair and a black shirt or something on. U could make it out for the
people mulling in to this funeral. He had a dark beard on gus stunning
face that accentuated his beautiful. Then I turned to my sister to see if
he knew who this stud was.

"That's father Tomas." She said
"He is the priest here now".....
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