Kipling

Kipling F. Holliday IV Part 3 By Bald Hairy Man

This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have comments send them to rwinarch47@google.com

My career and life took an unexpected turn when there was a school shooting. Six kids and one teacher were killed. Pablo's sister's children went to that school and the youngest children, twin girls, were in the classroom next door. Their teacher was wounded by a bullet that went through the wall.

It was dreadful and traumatic. A month later Pablo asked me to do a painting of the murdered children in heaven. His nieces and nephews were traumatized, and he thought a picture of them safe with the Virgin Mary would help.

My parents were Presbyterian, so I had gone to church school until my early teens. In the Nativity pictures I had seen, I was most interested in the sheep and cows. Mary was a nice Jewish girl for Presbyterians. Of course, I had seen a slew of religious paintings in my art history classes. I called my parents about it and my mom surprised me. She told to do anything that might help the children.

Pablo's family was Cuban, and they were not into abstract representations of religious figures. I decided to do what they wanted, a traditional religious painting. I liked Goya, but his works were not reassuring. I decided a calm and reassuring Raphael-inspired painting would be a good model. Pablo had photographs of the children. I decided I would place Mary in the middle wearing a blue robe that sheltered the children, three on each side. The teacher was to the right of the robe, Jesus was right behind Mary, with his halo casting light over the scene. Picasso would not approve.

The word got out and caused a stir. I wasn't known for anything but nudes. Pablo's family wanted the picture to go to the local Catholic Church, St. Jerome's. It was a big painting six by six feet. Pablo's sister wanted to make sure her daughters could recognize their friends.

The parish priest, Father Salvatore, came to see the unfinished painting with the head of the parish council. They stared at it. The head parish council just cried and left the room. I asked Father Salvatore if he wanted any changes. He shook his head, and said one word, "Perfect," and left. I paint quickly so I was soon well advanced.

Two months later on Sunday the painting was carried in a procession from the school to the church. It was in a largely Cuban, Latino and Haitian area and there were perhaps thousand people on the street watching. It was very emotional and moving. I didn't attend, since I thought the focus should be on the children, not the painter.

Since the murderer went after children, the painting of children safe with Mary and Jesus was reassuring. Father Salvatore put the painting into the newly rechristened Chapel of the Innocents.

Art critics did not like my neo-Raphael effort, but that didn't matter one bit. It seemed to comfort Pablo's nieces, and the public loved it. The church had to remain open 24/7 for persons praying at the chapel. Many members of the parish work on shifts. One or four o'clock in the morning worked for them. I asked the church not to mention my name as the painter. I didn't want any mixed messages. Of course, everyone knew who did it. I just didn't want "gay artist does religious painting" publicity.

Since Rocky had visited me often, he got to know Pablo. They got along well, and Rocky was shocked by the murders. Rocky was a popular "bad guy" wrestler. He volunteered to do an anti-gun add, ending with him saying. "If you need a gun to prove you're a man, you ain't a man." That was aimed directly at the trailer parks and double-wide prefabs. Pablo gave him some Spanish lessons. Apparently, Rocky's voice was particularly impressive in Spanish. Rocky's popularity soared.

I returned to working on my Labor of Hercules series using Rocky as my model. Rocky was 39 years old and normally a career in wrestling would be coming to an end. Some of that is due to age, but every time you get in a ring, there is a chance you will get hurt. It's just a matter of time before something happens.

Something did happen. While leaving a match Rocky walked into two men mugging a woman. He intervened and was shot in the arm. He inflicted considerable injuries to men, before and after he was shot. They got away, but police were able to follow the blood stains. One of the muggers died from a blow to his head. The other guy could be patched up so he could serve a long prison term.

Rocky was unaware he was shot. It turned out to be a serious injury and had rendered his arm barely usable. His wrestling career was over. He got nationwide attention as a hero. He was an engaging character and had a knack for one-liners. He went on to a career as television spokesman.

I was doing well, especially after the Labors of Hercules was shown in a gallery. If you knew Rocky, you knew he was the model. He was nude, but not naked. You had a sense that Hercules was a sexual creature, but that was just a part of him. Doing great things and overcoming obstacles were the core of the man. Hercules was less of a god and more of a man.

I decided that the advice to be quiet and slightly moody was the way to go. I was surprised at the men who were entranced by my painting of Mary and the Innocents. While I didn't publicize my sexual preferences, it wasn't a secret. That wasn't a problem with the people who liked the painting.

Father Salvatore came by to see me. Officially he was to discuss the lighting for the painting. He was nervous so I suspected he had other objective. He was wearing civilian clothes not the black suit, shirt and dog collar. He was a different man in a Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned to show his chest pelt. The preliminary studies of Rocky for the Hercules drawings were on the walls. Salvatore stared at them.

"I have to admit, Rocky was unlikely to be a good man as he was portrayed in the wrestling publicity," Fr. Salvatore said. "I can't count the number of homilies I have heard about not prejudging a man. I failed totally."

"A classic misjudging the Good Samaritan failure?" I suggested.

"You know more about the Bible than I assumed," he replied.

"I was cursed by having good Presbyterian parents who made me go to Sunday school," I said.

You are Presbyterian?" he asked.

"I'm semi-Presbyterian. I tend to be Phallic-Presbyterian combo-platter," I said.

Salvatore laughed. "Have you guessed I am a Catholic with intense phallic needs? I need to apologize. I can't be comfortable with Catholic man. It confuses things."

"How about taking a vacation from your job, for a little while?" I said as I unbuttoned my shirt. He did the same and we were naked on the posing couch. Salvatore had a good body and a beautiful uncut cock. I made the first move. I was afraid if I waited for him, it might be a long wait. He had huge balls. As I sucked his foreskin and worked my tongue into the tip, I tasted trapped precum. He must have been oozing as we talked.

"I'm sorry I am getting excited," he said.

I looked up at him. "When you are naked with a guy, you can't hide much," I said. "Your cock is telling me what you want and feel in a way words cannot. Just go with the flow and lets see where it leads us."

"You must think I'm a fool. I'm forty-five years old and I've never done this before."

"I think you feel the way every man feels when he's first exploring sex," I said. "It the same when you are twenty or seventy, relax." A few minutes later he relaxed and let his sexual urges take charge. A ten minutes later he lost control and flooded my mouth with his rich and creamy sperm.

"Oh damn, I didn't mean to do that," he exclaimed.

"Salvatore, that is the good part for me," I said. "The objective was to get you off. Some guys try to hide it. When I'm sucking up a man's sperm, I think it's a reward for a job well done."

"I thought you would be mad at me for ejaculating in your mouth. I didn't know the sensations would be so . . . total," he said. "I could never do that for you."

"Never say never," I replied. Salvatore dressed and left.

A week later Pablo told that Father Salvatore asked about me. He wanted to know if I was mad at him. I told Pablo I wasn't even remotely mad or annoyed.

"Several years ago, I confessed to him that I was gay," Pablo said. "Father Salvatore was understanding and good about it. As we talked, I realized he shared my feelings. He told me that if I was true to my friends, and we shared same feelings it couldn't be a sin. He didn't say it, but he is lonely. He needs a friend, and maybe someone more than a friend."

"Do you think I could be that friend?" I asked. "Would you be unhappy about that?"

"I don't think you can have too many friends," Pablo replied. "Rocky is your friend and my friend. That works out well, I think. If you become Salvatore's friend, that will be good too."

I called Salvatore and asked him over. I had a request for another painting related to an earlier school shooting. I needed his advice. He came over the next Monday. That was his day off. He warned me that Monday was the official day for unexpected emergencies that had to be delt with immediately. I said I understood.

"I am sorry I left the last time without thanking you," he said. "I was overwhelmed. I didn't know how to react." He paused, "Is it always that good?"

"To tell you the truth, I've never had a bad orgasm. There doesn't seem to be an upper limit as to how good it can be," I said. Ten minutes later we were naked.

This time Salvatore got close to my cock. His tongue touched my knob. There was no clap of thunder or a lighting bolt. He relaxed and kissed the tip of my knob, seconds before he tried to swallow my cock. I shifted my position so I could suck him. I had a feeling he hadn't guessed you could do that, but since has oozing precum a minute later, I knew he liked it.

My cock had begun to drool when his sucking became downright enthusiastic. A little later, we both shot off. Salvatore took my load and swallowed.

"I shouldn't have done that," he said.

"I can tell you with absolute certainty, you are wrong about that," I said. He gave me a sheepish look. We talked for about a quarter on an hour, mostly about everyday stuff. I noticed Salvatore was getting hard again. I leaned over and resumed sucking.

"You don't need to do this," Salvatore said in a whisper.

"I want to," I replied. "After the first orgasm, it takes longer to get a guy to shoot off a second time. I want more quality time with your cock." I think he wanted to say something, but he moaned instead. All was well with him.

After his second very productive orgasm, we talked. He was counseling a young priest, Father Jerome O'Brien. He and Jerome had similar problems. Salvatore asked if I would talk with him. I agreed. I know I should not have agreed, but the taste of Salvatore's cum lingered in my mouth and that seemed to have influenced my judgement.

Father Jerome called and came by on Thursday. He was the assistant pastor of a large church. The senior Pastor, Father Thomas, was seventy and very conservative, indeed doctrinaire. The congregation was older and wealthy. It was also shrinking, primarily due to death. Jerome was posted there to get new members.

Jerome looked young, and had the air of the good son in a 1950's television sit com. My studio was still filled with my Labor of Hercules series sketches. Jerome couldn't keep his eyes off them, even though he tried. He knew of Rocky, and the recent shooting and was surprised Rocky would pose nude.

"If you have ever seen him wrestling, he is only one small step away from being nude most of the time," I said.

"He's not embarrassed?" Jerome asked.

"If your body looked like Rocky's there is nothing to be embarrassed about," I said. "If you've got it, flaunt it. Have you ever watched him wrestle?"

Jerome managed to smile. "I've seen him on the TV once and a while," he replied. I had a feeling once and a while was an underestimate.

"How he keeps his cock from escaping from his shorts amazes me," I said. "Up close and personal his cock is bigger than what you can see in his bulging bikini bottoms."

"He poses completely naked?" Jerome asked.

"He sure does. When you get to know him, he is a genuinely nice guy. The bad boy stuff is just for wrestling," I said.

There was a long pause.

"Did Father Salvatore tell you about my problem?" he asked.

"No. He told me he wanted me to talk with you," I said. "We had some good conversations about his problems. If I were to guess, I suspect you share his worries."

"I was always a good kid, Eagle Scout, top of my class," Jerome said. "But I have a problem, a bad problem."

"I had a huge problem as a kid," I said. "Technically, I was a know-it-all asshole. I knew more than anyone one else. No one could teach me anything. I had only one skill: I could suck cocks. I burned all my bridges and left town. Luckily, a rich guy took me in as a boy toy. He made me go to college primarily because having me in the house all the time was too much."

"I took the easiest course I could find and discovered I had talent and here I am," I said. "By pure accident I am a successful artist. By the way, I still like to suck cock."

"Well, I was a success at everything I tried," Jerome said, "Without the cock sucking."

"If I was to suggest that some sexual extasy would greatly improve your life, would you be insulted?" I asked.

"Is that what Father Salvatore found here?" he asked.

"I never gossip," I said.

"You wouldn't tell anyone?" he asked.

"I have indulged in many vices, excepting gossip," I replied. Like many priests on their day off, Jerome was wearing a loud shirt. He began to unbutton it.

"What do I have to do?" he asked.

"Just try to relax and go with the flow," I replied.

Father Jerome had a pale, but muscular body, with curly red hair forming a thicket on his chest and a treasure chest to his bush. His foreskin had begun to pull back. I soon wrapped my lips around his pink knob. I licked the tender underside of his head.

He moaned.

Everything was tender, so I took my time. I suspected he had a hair trigger, and I didn't want him to shoot off too quickly.

"Do I need to suck you?" he asked in a whisper.

"You don't need too, but it would be nice if you did," I replied. He shifted so he could get to my cock.

"It's big," he whispered.

"Is that a problem?" I asked.

"I don't think so," he replied. He laughed a little before he licked my cock head. Seconds later half of my cock was in his mouth.

"You know a hard cock is like a loaded gun. It can go off any minute?" I whispered. He continued sucking. Jerome shot off first. I shot off seconds later. After the main event, I continued to suck the after drool. Jerome cock continued to twitch.

"Was it good for you," I asked.

"It was good," he said. "I didn't know it would be so good."

"You have a clue why men like sex so much?"

"I guess you could say I have an inkling now," Jerome said, smiling as he returned to sucking my cock. He left a half hour later. Jerome was a good man, and I hoped our interlude helped him understand people better.

That afternoon, Rocky came to see me with a friend, a therapist who was working with his arm. The therapist, Daryl, was a small, bird-like man. Daryl lived with his mother and worked at the hospital. Apparently, he did nothing else. Rocky told me the mother tended to be controlling. He had worked wonders with Rocky's arm. He had some motion and could grip small, light objects. Rocky was pleased. The arm was only semi-useful, but it didn't just hang there. It looked normal.

Daryl was small and slightly effeminate. Rocky was a gay man's wet dream come to life. Daryl was persistent, demanding, and infinitely patient.

"Daryl has seen some of your pictures of me. He likes your drawings and me a lot. We would like to play some, but I was hoping you could give him some lessons. Daryl thinks I might be too big. I was hoping you could help him," Rocky explained.

"You want me to be his sexual training wheels?" I asked. Both men laughed. We talked a little longer and somehow, we were naked fifteen minutes later. Daryl was small and looked scrawny. He was a physical therapist, and he was lean and muscular. His cock was what I consider as high average, as were his low hanging balls. I almost got whiplash he got hard so fast. Five minutes later he was sucking my cock. He told me he had seen some porn, so he knew what to do, but not what it actually felt like. I met his expectations.

He was on his back on the couch when Rocky fed him his cock. This gave Daryl a spectacular erection. I sat on his cock. Daryl was frantically trying to get Rocky off as I bounced on his cock. When Rocky began to squirt, Daryl took his load as he delivered his into me. Daryl was more than ready for a sexual connection.

We broke apart to catch our breath. Daryl was still hard, so I lubricated my cock to fuck him while his cock was hard. I had noted that Daryl was muscular. Those muscles did not include his sphincter. His ass was wide open.

"Shit, that boy is open," Rocky exclaimed.

"Daryl, I think you would like to have Rocky to be the first guy to cum in your ass," I asked. He nodded, and as soon as I pulled out, Rocky filled the void. Daryl was not disappointed. I was surprised that Rocky liked it so much.