Date: Sun, 27 Mar 2016 02:21:41 +0000 (UTC) From: Beaumonte Bill Subject: First Taste of Cum Part 8 First Taste of Cum (part 8) This series presents a number of independent stories of about youthful first blowjobs. Some of these are inspired by my readers. I hope you enjoy this series. –––––––––– Confessing My Desires –––––––––– I was raised in a devout Catholic household, complete with many threats of eternally burning in hell. After awhile I grew numb to all this – I think it was in my teens when my mother kept warning me against the sin of "self -abuse". I felt like assuring her that it was wonderful, and not any sort of abuse at all! Now that I'm an adult I have a place of my own, so I don't suffer the constant oppression of religion, but when I talk to my mother on the phone she always reminds me that I should go to confession. I never liked confession, and thought it was something the priests dreamt up so they could listen to juicy stories to spice up their otherwise boring life. The last time I talked to my mother I promised her that I would go to confession, so now I was prepared to do so. I decided that I would give the priest something to relish as I entered the confessional. I silently waited until I heard the priest enter the other side of the confessional, and I began with the usual, "Bless me father, for I have sinned." "What is your sin?" was his response. "I have had gay thoughts," I confessed. "Many people do," replied the priest, "you cannot control what thoughts enter your mind, but you can push them out – as long as you don't dwell on the thoughts, there is no sin." "But I cannot help dwelling on them," I continued, "in fact I even masturbate to those thoughts." "I see," said the priest, "how do you feel about that?" "Actually, I like it," I replied, "but feel some guilt as well." "How long has this been going on?" the priest asked. "It started a little bit years ago," I said, "but has become worse – now I think about it several times a day." "I can tell that this troubles you," said the priest, "so instead of just assigning you some prayers and penance, I want you to come to me for counseling on this. I am Father Michael." We prayed and I thanked him and left. Father Michael must have really enjoyed my confession – he had a lot of nerve telling me to come see him about it! As I went through my day I wondered about seeing Father Michael. Confession was anonymous, so he didn't know who I was, and I had never "outed" myself before. I didn't like the idea of exposing who I was to him. However, my mind kept returning to it, and I realized that Father Michael was sworn to secrecy, and perhaps it might be fun to go see him, and see his reaction. I called the church and asked for Father Michael. I told him that I had confessed gay thoughts to him and was following up on his direction to meet him for counseling. We agreed to meet at 5:30pm and hung up. I had no idea what to expect – perhaps he would end up having me excommunicated! I didn't matter much to me, but my mother would have a heart attack if that happened, so I decided to simply act like a guy troubled with his demons. It seemed pretty safe – what could go wrong? That evening I entered the church office and looked for Father Michael's office. The door was closed so I knocked on it. Father Michael answered the door and said he would be with me in a few minutes. He asked me to have a seat nearby while he finished his current session. As I waited, I wondered what was going on – was the person with Father Michael anything like me? I found myself a little nervous about what was to come. Maybe I shouldn't have ever confessed what I did. I should have just confessed missing church – but it was too late for that! The door opened and Father Michael sent a guy about my age on his way, and invited me in. He offered me a chair and then sat behind his desk. "So tell me exactly what sort of thoughts you have," he began. "I think about naked men with erect penises," I began, watching him for any sign of reaction. "Is that all?" he asked. "No," I replied, "I think about handling them and blowing them." "Is blowing them the main attraction for you?" he asked. "I think so, when I masturbate I usually think of them in my mouth, cumming," I replied. I could tell that this was having an effect on Father Michael, and wondered how many other people tell him depraved stories for his pleasure. "So it seems that you cannot help dwelling on these thoughts," he said, "have you ever acted on them?" "No," I admitted, "but sometimes I feel like I want to." "It would not be sinful for you to act upon your feelings in the service of God," Father Michael explained. "In service to God?" I asked. "As you know, priests are celibate – we cannot marry," he explained, "but we still have needs, and if you help relieve us, you are in service to God." That sure sounded like a line of crap to me, but I knew that many priests molested children – at least Father Michael wasn't using a kid! "Are you suggesting that I could provide that service here?" I asked. "Yes, if you like," he answered, "but we can start out slow." Father Michael got up and approached me. He parted his robe and put his fingers on his zipper. "Would you like to try now?" he asked. I nodded and slipped out of the chair and onto my knees, inches from him. He unzipped and took out his cock, which was partially erect, and already pretty large. I opened my mouth and he put his cock in and said, "Just hold it there and see how you like it – and if the spirit moves you further." He then put both hands on top of my head and said, "let us pray . . . Lord bless this act done in your service – may it bring peace to us and glorify your name – amen." If this was really a sin I thought that Father Michael might as well have asked God to strike us both down, but nothing happened except for the cock growing in my mouth. I enjoyed the wonderful feeling, as if his cock really belonged in my mouth – was that part of God's design? I began to move my tongue around and sucked more eagerly. Father Michael said, "I can tell the spirit is moving both of us! Keep going." I continued to suck him and soon was rewarded for my efforts. I felt his throbbing cock pump spurt after spurt of his seed into my mouth, just as I had imagined in my jack-off fantasies! I held his load and spent cock in my mouth as he tilted my head up until my eyes met his. He smiled at me and told me that I had done well, and I should hold his seed in my mouth as I departed and prayerfully rejoice in the service I had given. He asked me to call him to schedule another session if I wished, and if I wanted we could set up a weekly schedule. As I departed I held his load in my mouth, swallowing as I arrived home. That night as I lay in bed I resolved to call Father Michael and set up a weekly schedule – church was no longer something I wanted to avoid! –––––––––––––––––––––-–––––––––––––––––––– Feel free to contact me with your comments or requests. –Bill (oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com) Please support this website by donating to nifty.org