Father Wally Makes Friends 3
Bald Hairy Man
This is pure fantasy. If you are offended by stories about gay men and gay sex, or if you are under age, DO NOT READ IT. It is not a guide to safe sexual techniques. It does not depict real men, or real situations. It does not depict necessary safe sex practices. Fantasy characters can do anything they want, real men can not!
Jesus was terrified that his sexual urges would send him to eternal damnation. He was from a rural area of Mexico, and the priest was preaching the way they did a century ago. I was familiar with that. My mother still longed for the blessed un-intelligibility of the Latin Mass and was sure there was a path directly to heaven due to eating fish on Friday. Fortunately, She was good about the do unto others as you would have them due unto you maxim. She was a great mother and a kind woman, but I never understood the fish thing.
Guido and I had one thing going for us. We were priests. While we were unlike the stern, judge-like priest of the past, we were priests. Jesus, the stone mason, was an intelligent, good, hard working man. He got along well with his crew and was affable and pleasant.
Jesus lived a few blocks from the church in a house converted into apartments. It sat next to an abandoned warehouse. It was a small warehouse, but some locals turned into a meth lab. The people who make meth don't seem to be overly concerned with safety and the lab exploded and set the neighboring buildings on fire.
It was summer and Jesus had worked late. He was almost at the front door of his apartment house when the lab exploded. His apartment was in the rear nearest to the warehouse and was almost vaporized. He had nothing left.
I heard the explosion and raced to the scene and found him sitting on the curb. He was covered in soot, chemicals and gunk from the fire. He was with a Rescue Squad medic, Marty. The Rescue Squad guy told me Jesus had saved an older couple carrying them through the flames. He told me Jesus needed a shower and a scrubbing.
"God knows what chemicals were in the fucking meth lab. The soot is so thick, you can't tell if he has been burned," Marty told me and explained, "The soot could be caustic or chemical. Whatever they are you want to wash them off as soon as possible."
Jesus looked dazed, so I brought him back to the rectory. I told him he could stay as long as he wanted. I took him to the shower told him to strip and joined him. We had soap, brushes and sponges. He was just standing there, so I scrubbed him.
A half hour later he was clean and wasn't burned. Some of the hair on his legs had been singed. It had been a close call. I had a much more intimate knowledge of his body, than of almost any other man as a result of the deep cleaning. Jesus was an average guy with his clothes on. He was a he-man nude. His body didn't have an ounce of fat. He he wasn't muscle magazine toned. If there was a Stone Masons Pictorial beefcake magazine, he could have been the centerfold. While the muscles were great, his cock and balls were even better.
He got hard when I cleaned his genitals. While I am good at hiding my feelings, my cock was not at all good about hiding my excitement. He noticed, but didn't say anything.
I got him into bed and went to my room. He slept like a log. Father Jurgen and Father Guido returned to the rectory. They passed the smoking ruins of the house. They were greatly relieved that Jesus was safe. Since Jesus had nothing left other than his singed clothes. They went out in the wee hours of the night to find clothes for him. Jurgen knew the community well, and the father of one of his star soccer players owned a clothing store.
Guido made Jesus take the day off. Later that morning, Jesus came to me. "I should have washed myself," he said, "You should not have seen me naked."
"This was an emergency. There was no way for you could scrub all the hard to reach places. A meth lab blew up. Who knows what they were working with. Much of it was dangerous chemicals. I had to get it off your body, or you could get sick," I said. "I am a man too. We are all basically alike. I wasn't shocked or surprised."
"You saw me naked. That is sinful," he said.
"No it isn't. The Good Samaritan saved a naked man. You had just saved two people's lives at great danger to your self. God is not a sour nun who thinks that harsh, petty, rules are more important than bravery, kindness and charity. At one time, many thought that eating meat on Friday was a sin. They thought falling in love with a Protestant was a sin and you would be expelled from the church. Jesus didn't seem to worry about what you ate, and he praised the despised good Samaritan. He praised love and affection," I said. I was slipping into my homily for the week mode.
Unlike most of my homilies, Jesus understood me. I was shocked and pleased.
"Having you touch me turned me on," Jesus said in a whisper.
After a brief pause, I told him, "I was unexpectedly excited too."
"I didn't think that a priest would be so big," he said. "I thought your parts might be shriveled."
"Lack of use doesn't mean it shrinks!" I said laughing. "I should tell you I drain my balls from time to time." A minute or two later, we were naked and I was sucking his cock. He told me I shouldn't do that, but his cock liked it. He almost choked me it got hard so fast. He was uncut and his knob was ultra sensitive.
His cock responded to my tongue's caresses. After minute or two I began to taste his sex juices. He twitched, and shivered as his precum began to flow. His first ejaculations surprised me, as did the number of spurts and their productiveness. I had to swallow twice.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"There is nothing to be sorry about. It was beautiful," I said as I returned to licking the post orgasmic drool.
"No one has ever done that to me," he said. "Did it disgust you?"
"Not at all. You enjoyed it, and I enjoyed it. All is well," I said. "I like to give a good man pleasure. To be strictly truthful, I could almost taste your pleasure in your sperm. It was beautiful."
I later found out that he had sucked cock, but no one had reciprocated. We talked and his previous sexual experiences focused more on speed than pleasure. His experience with me was new to him.
"Do I need to take your load?" he asked.
"Have you taken a man's sperm before?" I asked.
"I have accidentally taken it," he said. "I think I would like yours," he said. A few minutes later he was nursing my cock as if it was his mother's breast. He took his time and eventually took every drop of sperm I ejaculated. He told me it had never been as pleasurable before.
We were partially dressed when Jurgen came with clothes. Father Guido was off to St. Thomas' Church to supervise the stone masons. Jurgen and Guido's search for clothes had been most successful. It included dress and work clothes and the items a working man would need.
That afternoon Marty, the rescue squad guy and the rescue squad chief came by to check on Jesus. Jesus was fine except for bruises and scratches. He gave Jesus a tetanus shot. Jesus told them what recalled about the fire. The couple he had saved was in the hospital with minor smoke inhalation and shock, but they would be fine. They could provide temporary housing for Jesus, but it was on the other side of town. Jesus did not have a car. I told them we would take care of that and he would stay at the Rectory as long as he was homeless.
Sean had moved to his new assignment as a parish priest, and Ambrose was reassigned the a more important diocese on the east coast, so Jurgen and Guido were the only residents in the rectory. There was room enough for Jesus. While I knew that Jesus was a normal name for a man in Mexico, it seemed oddly comic to be making room in a rectory for Jesus.
While Jurgen was our soccer coach, Jesus had been a good player and he assisted Jurgen. His command of Spanish was an improvement on Jurgen's German-English-Spanish linguistics.
With empty rooms, Tony sent me another troubled priest. Father Maxwell Thompson was an odd case. The word "troubled" in Maxwell's case seemed to mean lazy as shit. He was from a wealthy family who wanted him to do something. They were generous contributors to the seminary he attended and to the churches he served. Eventually the money was never enough.
Fr. Maxwell tended to forget things like daily mass. That was a problem, but he also forgot several funerals, and one big wedding. A retired priest filled in for him, but he complained to the diocese. Thus Fr. Maxwell took up residence at the rectory. I was not happy about that.
I got a call from Fr. Maxwell's father offering me twenty thousand dollars to keep his son. I said no. Charity is one thing. Keeping a paid border would go on for years. I was already annoyed at Tony, but Maxwell was so difficult he used up all my reserves of irritation.
I was unhappy, but hoped for the best.
The lord moves in mysterious ways. I am not too sure about the Presbyterian doctrine of predestination, but Fr. Maxwell may well have been destined to come to our rectory.
Since he had Tony's recommendation, I assumed that Maxwell was gay. Officially he had not been kicked out of his previous positions for that. Maxwell was indeed gay, and was attracted to butch, macho types. Those types are rarely attracted to the priesthood. Fr. Jurgen and Fr. Guido were macho as was Jesus. I am masculine, but no one thought I would be a star on the wrestling team.
When Maxwell encountered Jurgen, Guido, and Jesus in the shower room, he discovered true love. He found himself in what he thought was an unattainable fantasy. They were beyond his wildest dreams. Maxwell had one personal trait that could be attractive to the three men: Maxwell was a bottom. He was a needy bottom.
There was one unexpected side effect of Maxwell's lust for the men. They were active, busy men. Guido and Jesus were doing restoration stone work. Jurgen was running the neighborhood youth soccer team. The local schools required a positive grade average for students to participate in school teams. He and Guido worked on a tutoring program. St. Thomas's Church had retired members who helped out. Eliza selected the tutors. She knew the suitable men and women.
Maxwell had to be useful if he wanted to be near the men. He tried being helpful, and discovered he liked it as did they. Maxwell had some odd qualifications to be a tutor. He had been a poor student and his parents had hired many gifted tutors to help him. The problem wasn't that he couldn't learn. He was just to lazy to learn. Maxwell remembered every trick and technique his tutors used to get his attention. He knew them all. His attraction to Jurgen, Guido, and Jesus was so strong, he made a solid effort to change and became a tutor.
The old saying that God moves in mysterious ways is a cliche, but sometimes the way is freakish. Jurgen and Guido were at a soccer tournament on the other side of town. I was taking a shower when Jesus joined me. We were both tired, but not too tired to have some fun.
Maxwell had gone out for dinner with his father. He found Jesus and me in the shower. We weren't sexually engaged, but our cocks were showing signs of interest. Maxwell was wearing shorts and an expensive, high-style, tee-shirt. He stripped and joined us.
I was going to complain, but my cock went from being semi-erect to fully erect before I was able to complain. My cock betrayed me. Jesus just followed the leader.
Much to my annoyance, sexually Maxwell was accommodating and receptive. In day to day activities, he was listless, uninterested and almost catatonic. When sexually engaged he was cheerful, excited and eager to please. He was not at all experienced, but he seemed to be desperate to please. I was the first to feed him a load. He took it and then swallowed every drop.
Jesus was the first man to pop past his sphincter into his ass. Jesus is always polite and was the first to lubricate Maxwell's entire ass with his homemade lubricant. Maxwell went crazy when he felt Jesus sperm shooting off deep in his ass.
Over the next few weeks Jesus and I discovered a lot about Maxwell. His mother died shortly after he was born. He was raised by servants and his father's sister, reclusive aunt Margret. He went to boarding schools. His father was concerned, but uninvolved. His aunt was obsessively religious. She felt you expressed affection by being strict and demanding. She believed that praise was only acceptable for perfection. Anything less was a failure.
He made friends with one or two boys, and they explored sex a little, but every time he made a friends, he changed schools.
Luck played a role in our relationship with Maxwell. Jesus had the perfect cock for Maxwell's ass. It was long and thick enough for Maxwell's ass. It touched every good spot in his ass, and Jesus' ejaculations were forceful drove him crazy.
My sperm was the food of the gods for Maxwell. He loved sucking me off to get the all but magic elixir spurting from my cock. He thought my cock was a little to big for his ass. He was willing to take it as an experiment. He took it, loved it and begged me to make it last. Tony claimed that the perfect cock was one size too big. It should be big enough to feel, but not painful. Maxwell was sexually insatiable. He wasn't demanding and was always willing.
Eventually, Jurgen, Guido, Jesus and I fucked him. He loved every penetration and every orgasm. All this sex had an unexpected side effect. Maxwell turned into a normal human being. Sexual obsessions and compulsions would normally be classified as a problem. His sexual needs were for mature men. He had no interest in children, teens or young men. He wanted a daddy. Our rectory was well supplied with daddies.
There does not seem to be any biblical discussion of salvation through sex. Apparently the gospel writers never encountered anyone like Maxwell. Regular sex turned him into a new man. He got into Jurgen's tutoring group and was good at it. I wondered if lust derived virtue was sufficient for salvation. I hoped so.
While working on the work at St. Thomas's Episcopal Church, Guido made friends with the music director, Randall Miller Thompson III. Randall was a superb musician, and was particularly skilled at classical church music, oratorios, and cantatas. While he was gay as a goose, he was affable, had a great sense of humor and was able to get the best out of his choirs.
Randall had overheard Guido singing as he carved a gargoyle. When the best bass in the choir had a stroke, Randall was working on an Italian cantata and Guido impressed Randall. He both sang the bass parts, he also knew the correct Italian pronunciation of the libretto. Guido had been noted for his ability to chant. He filled in for bass who had the stroke. Fr. Guido Montana was a great success singing for St. Thomas's
Randall Thompson was a tall man with an impressive trust fund. He admired Guido's musical skills. He loved Guido's muscular stone mason's body. They connected.
Guido was a perceptive man. He recognized that Randall and Maxwell had similar backgrounds. They were both the black sheep of wealthy families. He also realized they had similar sexual tastes. Guido was too big to play cupid, but he gave it a try. He arranged for a meet and greet.
Some how, Guido, Maxwell, and I were invited to a picnic at Randall's house. The house sat alone on wooded, little island on Thompson Drive. The island actually had a draw bridge. A pretty cottage sat on the island. It was the only house on the drive. Randall greeted us warmly.
Randall explained it was built by his eccentric uncle. "As you know, an eccentric is a crazy man with money. My uncle was harmless except to himself. At some point he came to believe he could walk on water. That belief, combined a misunderstanding as to the depth of the lake caused his death. I inherited the place because I was the only one who would take it," he explained.
Randall always dressed formally. He almost looked like a Victorian dandy. He told Guido to dress informally in shorts. The house was not air conditioned and it was mid summer. He was wearing a hat, a wife beater and shorts. He was bald and bearded which contributed to his dandy like appearance. Unexpectedly, he was exceptionally hairy, and fit.
There was a pool to the rear of the house. Guido mentioned he would love to jump in. Randall said that since he was the only on in the island, he usually skinny-dipped. He stripped and jumped in. To be polite we all stripped and jumped in.
I used to like to swim, so I swam laps. Guido, Maxwell and Randall talked in the cool water. Randall and Maxwell hit it off immediately. They had similar backgrounds, educations, and life histories. Both were considered to be disappointments. They hit it off. I would hate to sound superficial, but Randall also had a somewhat reduced version of the Empire State Building embellishing his crotch. I knew Maxwell would enjoyed a challenge.
We had a nice lunch, Guido and I returned to the pool. Maxwell and Randall went off to look at the house. That tour lasted two hours, and two very happy men returned from the tour. While I didn't know what they saw on the tour, Guido and I discovered we were much more compatible. While I was well acquainted with his sperm, he discovered my orgasm deep in his body was more exciting than he thought.