Patches

HOLA PEEPS!!

Your boy Ryan is back with another chapter of your favourite Pastor/Homeless stud duo.

THANK YOU for each and every email and feedback. Means the world. Wanna chat? No prob! Send me an email at liciousryan@gmail.com Love always Ryan

PATCHES CHAPTER THREE

"Patches..."

For the second morning in a row, I woke up with his name on my lips. Heaven help me, I had no idea if he was even still alive, not after that horrible article in the newspaper about a homeless man being found murdered a few days ago.

Believe me when I say, I used all my contacts possible in my arsenal, in trying to find out the name of the victim and when I eventually did, I could only thank God that even though, whilst it was damn tragic that a man had died, that at least it wasn't Patches.

After all, yet again, I had to sleep in my son's room after my wife had been hitting the bottle the previous evening.

I had heard nothing about the possible new job in Chelsea that me and Thomas had gone all the way into London for, but I hoped that I could have heard some news and soon. The waiting was driving me a little more than crazy.

I couldn't stand the looks and pity views that I have been receiving on a daily basis because of Jen's drinking. It had come to a point where I had no idea what to say, or how to react to my beloved congregation any longer.

I couldn't defend her anymore. There was no way, after what she had gotten up to in the last few weeks, years even. It has been a long time coming, and I had to accept that they wanted us gone from the Parrish because of her. Not me per say, but unfortunately Jen and I came as a package and majority couldn't stand her any longer.

I rolled over and pulled the duvet over me. I closed my eyes and saw a very attractive man appearing my mind's eye. A filthy hobo no less...but he was my filthy hobo...and it was me, that had kissed him so passionately only a few days ago outside, with the snow falling around us.

Gentlemen that he was, he didn't want us to go any further than just a kiss and a couple of caresses since I was married and he, of course, didn't have a very good life on the streets. All in all we really shouldn't fit together, even as friends.

A pastor and a homeless man.

But tell me, where in the Ten Commandments exactly does it say that you can't experience a warm feeling in your heart when you're with another man?

Smiling as I felt my cock harden underneath the sheets, I thought for the utmost time, at how handsome Patches was. Even with his dirty long hair that reached past his shoulders. His smile, his eyes, the way he had held me, kissed my forehead ever so lovingly as I held on to his ripped, tough outer exterior.

Way out in the kitchen, I could faintly hear Jen cussing out Thomas for spilling milk on his school shirt...and whilst it was a slight inconvenience given that he should be at school in a fair few minutes, it definitely wasn't worth the scolding that she was giving the poor boy.

I was so happy in the precious few moments I was with Patches.

I was miserable when I was with Jen, every second of every day.

Yeah...I had a real problem.

Patches kissed me back though, it wasn't as if he was forced to do so. He held me, caressed me and kissed me back. That...that HAD to mean something, right?

Eventually getting up, I found a crying Thomas inside the bathroom, at the tender age of ten years old washing his own school shirt that he had split the milk on. Did she really send him in here...he had school!

He was trying his best to work the machine, but he didn't really know what to do.

What was Jen thinking? What ten year old boy knew how to work an automatic washing machine?

"Here, buddy. Lemme help," I said as I gently rubbed his back and took the shirt from him.

He sniffed and didn't wanna look me in the eye, knowing what he did was wrong. I gave him a kiss on his cheek and placed the shirt in the machine. Within minutes it was done, and after a quick spin inside the tumble dryer, it was as good as new.

Since time was not on our side, I quickly dressed Thomas and rushed him out with his backpack, and watched as he ran towards the bus stop, a mere two or three seconds before the bus itself arrived. He turned around and gave me a slight wave before getting on, as the bus made its way towards the local village school.

Jen was inside the house busy lightening up a cigarette as I finally went back in. She gave me one cold look and switched on the telly, with nothing better to do. Her opened bottle of Jack Daniels was already next to her, and at the tender time of 07:30, in the morning, she was already half way through.

"Go on! Say it! Tell me how much of a worthless drunken bitch I am!" she shouted as she casually flipped through the TV channels.

"I don't need to say anything. You've said it yourself," I replied, before grabbing my briefcase and walked out of the house, determined to get away from her.

If I didn't, I wouldn't be able to defend my actions.

**

A knock on my office door startled me. The face appearing around the opening, even more.

"Afternoon, Pastor Josh."

I looked up from my papers. My smile suddenly was as wide as the Sahara dessert.

"You came...I didn't know where you were, and then I saw that report in the newspaper of a homeless man being murdered the other day...I went out of my mind, because I didn't know where to find you..."

I was silenced in the best way possible...he grabbed my head inside both of his dirty, smelly, callused hands and placed his dry, burst lips on mine.

Oh geez... I near melted inside his embrace...I viciously grabbed the filthy hoodie he was wearing and pulled Patches towards me. I pounced on his lips with a sensual sigh, the flames inside my chest and heart was threatening to burst out of my body.

What was this man doing to me?

I reached upwards and felt his oily, damaged, sun bleached hair between my fingers. It should, in all honesty, have made me sick as fuck, but I didn't care. It belonged to him. To Patches.

I felt the rippling, strong back muscles, as I ravaged his body within our kiss. It was electric, it felt like we were connected in much, much more than just a smooch inside my office within the community hall. Patches released my mouth, and held my face lovingly between his humongous claws...his teeth as white as snow...he leaned forward and kissed my forehead, after which he lovingly squeezed his cold nose against my own.

"I missed you..." he whispered, a little out of breath, and perhaps so that the women of the Sisters Union who were doing some knitting inside the hall, didn't hear his declaration.

"When I saw that article, I immediately thought I'd never see you ever again..." I whispered back as I desperately clung to his freezing body.

He looked upwards and slightly caressed my arms.

"Lex. Yeah, he was a friend of mine. And the bad news is, I think they weren't after him. I'm pretty sure they were after me."

I gently tucked a string of loose hair in behind his ears, now more worried than ever before.

"Who are `they'? And why would anyone be after you?"

Patches dropped my hands and placed his own inside his hoodie's pockets. He sniffed a little, clearly some side effects of a cold, and shook his head.

"When you're living on the streets man, there's always gonna be enemies and I just have more than most," he said, as nonchalant as can be.

"And that's it? But let's go to the police! You can't be out there when people are after you!" I squeaked, an image of Patches inside a morgue suddenly and disturbingly lapsed into my mind.

Patches smirked at me whilst he inspected the cross with a figure representing Jesus hanging from it.

"I can take care of myself. Always have. But...I have to ask you a favour. And don't think I would have been here asking if I had a choice...but I need to stay here for a few nights. Just until the danger has past. I know, I can defend myself against two, even three thugs, but against a whole gang...I dunno. Once they see they can't find me, they'll go. Please, Josh. I won't be any trouble."

My heart wanted to say yes, but my brain knew that it was too dangerous. Several people, including my wife, had keys to the community hall and they could find him here at any time. Having him stay here would certainly raise uncomfortable questions, some of which I don't think I'd be able to give an honest answer to.

"Patches..."

"Don't worry, I knew it was a long shot..."

"...I was about to say, if you don't mind staying inside the attack, you're more than welcome to hide out here. "

The way his face lightened up was more of a reward than rent of any kind, could ever have been.

"Josh...I..."

I walked over to him, gently closing the door to my office. I could hear the ladies inside cheerfully singing hymns whilst they were working, so I knew, for the time being, that we were safe.

"Come here, you beautiful man..." I said as I reached out my hand towards him.

"Wow...I have been called loads of things in my life, but never that," he smiled, taking my hands inside his own.

"You, my friend, are the kindest, (kiss on the lips) most handsome, (kiss) most everything man (kiss) I've ever met. You make me feel, I dunno, ALIVE for the first time in my life...I can't explain it. God what have you done to me?"

His beautiful smile was again on show as he blushed at my kisses and compliments. He embraced me and kissed the top of my hair gently. His arms were like steel velvet around my much skinnier body.

"Josh, when people see me, they see a bum. A chav. Homeless piece of crap. Thug. Thief. Paedophile. But you...you treated me like a real person, and not some sort of drug dealer on the streets. You opened your home and your heart to me like no one ever had. I never knew my parents, or even if I had brothers or sisters. But I do know this..."

Patches swallowed slowly placed his hand palm over my chest.

"You're an amazing guy. I'm the lucky one here."

I couldn't hold it in any longer...

I pushed him against the wall of my tiny office and attacked his neck violently with every single hidden homosexual desire I had to supress in these last ten years.

For every time I had to fight with Jen, for every time I had hated her for messing up my life and my relationship with Tommy, for every time I looked at her drunken waste of a body and thought what could have been...it all came out in that rage.

Poor Patches didn't quite know what had hit him. I left countless hickeys on his neck, moving my way down to his broad chest, licking and tasting the smelly, filthy muck that had somehow formed there. He must not have taken a bath in weeks. But I didn't care one little bit. This man was driving me and my hormones more than insane.

I nearly tore his hoodie apart in trying my best and my damnedest to get it off him. He was wearing a black tank top underneath. I pressed my face against his chest and breathed in his utter human stench...again, I didn't care. It was a part of him.

He did me a massive favour in yanking off the tank top in a once full muscled swing, leaving his ripped torso and abs exposed to my hungry eyes.

My God.

Why was he not an international model? On billboards at least? I mean...look at him...solid, six perfectly formed blocks of rock hard pectorals greeted me as I solemnly glided my hand over them...I could actually feel his breath quickening with each feel of my finger tips. I eyed his stomach up like a lion cub would a dead piece of carcus.

Eventually, I sunk to my knees, and reached out to the waist band of the sweat pants that he was wearing.

It was then, that his stomach had really began to clench and be on severe edge...he knew what I was gonna do...oh boy, when last did this hot piece of ass have any kind of sexual release...

I looked upwards at my gorgeous man...silently asking permission to make my own forbidden dreams come true...true enough, with a slight nod, and a caress over my hair, as if to lovingly say yes, go ahead, he smiled and closed his eyes in utter anticipation.

I expected a worse stink than what I had already gotten in getting here, but surprisingly, there wasn't anything worse...inch by wonderful inch, as the sweat pants were lowered, I finally saw what I had craved with my whole entire heart since I first saw him.

I caught a glimpse of it that first night when he nearly died of hypothermia, but then, it was solid cold and flaccid when me and Thomas had him in our bathtub...now, it had evolved in to an eight inch monster who greeted me like an old friend.

I reached out and encircled his phallus with my bare right hand.

Patches shuddered and hissed his approval.

I gently started the well known rhythmic movements of a classic wank job, over and over until his bare cock head eventually came out to say hello. I loved the fact that he still had his foreskin attached...the wonderful way the skin glided over the swollen army helmet was like watching nature take its course.

"You...I mean...Josh, you don't have to do this..." Patches suddenly croaked and I answered him by leaning down and giving his bulbous cockhead a gentle lick.

"Hooooly shitttt..." he wheezed. I'd totally forgive his profanity.

His penis tasted like him, a hint of smelliness, but otherwise clean and taken care of. I completely retracted his entire foreskin until I only had the solid, rock hard penis in front of me.

I kissed the stem, his moaned his appreciation. I kissed downwards, further and further alongside his length without actually taking his cockhead into my mouth.

I could feel his dick become alive, I could feel every single pulse of blood that was filling his fuck stick.

As I finally reached the tip of his organ, the poor man was quivering. I swiped his helmet with my tongue. His shivered and his legs were threatening to collapse underneath his body. I leaned forward and took the whole head inside my holy gullet.

"Woaaaaah...oh shit...ohhh geez..."

His moans and groans only drove me on more and more. This thick piece of man flesh needed to be respected and that's exactly what I did.

My tongue was raw and flavoured with his taste, his pre cum positively pouring out of his wide open piss slit, it was an sheer added bonus. Sour, but like pure potent iron. Exact way to describe. His head throbbed inside my mouth like a tooth ache would smother your senses.

I couldn't get enough of this eight inch thick penis. He was a big boy...Damn...how it would ever feel inside my ass, it if tasted so good inside my mouth...

My saliva was smeared all over his penis. It positively glistened inside the bright afternoon sunlight streaming in to the office. I was jacking his cock now at a furious pace, all the while keeping my mouth and tongue on his cock head.

Over and over, I slurped and sucked his tasty organ until I felt a change in his stance.

"Josh...I'm gonna blow...get off!"

I kept jacking off the length of his cock whilst making sweet, sweet love to his wet piss slit, driving my tongue as far as it would possibly go...

"Dude...I'm not kidding..."

I took my mouth off his cock head and pointed it towards my wide open pie hole. Just, for a second, imagine a vicar, a man of God, white collar and all, on his knees, begging a dirty, smelly homeless man to cum inside his mouth...I needed to taste his sperm. I craved his sperm.

I WANTED HIS SPERM!

"Josh I'm serious...can't hold it..."

A torrent of downpour suddenly blasted into my hungry mouth at a ferocious pace. Never mind how desperate I was for his cum, I did not expect to be literally soaked in it. His massive dick just wouldn't stop shooting sperm for shit! It was madness!

Over and over it spattered on to me, the smell intoxicating, rich, and VIRILE... and just when you thought the spurts would eventually die down, another would cheekily sneak in and hit your on your already milked, sperm oozed face.

Not that I cared. I was covered from forehead to chin in delicious man seed, his precious baby makers, his sour and tangy ball juice and believe you me, it was like heaven on earth.

Not since Tommy, in my school days, had I tasted sperm. I missed it. I honestly did.

"Josh...I warned you, my god, just look at you..." Patches whispered as he finally regained his senses to speak after his monumentous orgasm.

His eyes flickered on a box of tissues on my desk and some wet wipes I had stashed for bereavement purposes, and for when I had to comfort church goers who needed my emotional guidance.

He ever so gently knelt down so that he was level with me. Eyeball to eyeball. He slowly, but surely cleaned up his residue sperm from my face, still in somewhat of silent amazement at what I had just done.

When he was satisfied that I was all cleaned up, he leaned forward and placed a gentle, yet rough and needy kiss on me.

"I'll never forget what you just did. Never. Fucking hell. Sorry, man, I keep forgetting we're in a church hall..."

I tiredly reached out and caressed the side of his face. To my pleasant surprise, he leaned into my touch.

"Jen is going out tonight. She always does these days. She...she stumbles home at the crack of dawn every morning. She won't listen to your reason...there's a good chance that we will be moving soon...I mean, the Bishop made it clear that Jen is not welcome here anymore..."

Patches frowned. As if he was offended.

"Moving where?"

I bit my lip.

"I don't wanna say..."

"Where to, Josh?" Patches demanded, fire burning in his eyes.

"Chelsea."

Patches' head collapsed onto his ripped chest. He looked...so defeated, was the word.

"Patches, it's not definite yet..."

"Look, Josh. I have no right feeling like this. But here it goes. We have a connection, you said it yourself. My god you just gave me oral sex! Don't you think I have feelings too? Because I'm homeless and nameless, that I don't feel shit?"

He took a deep breath and stood up.

"I knew I shouldn't have...I knew it was looking for trouble. Married and with a kid. A fucking pastor, no less. Why did I ever think...no, hope that we could perhaps...even in secret, but you know what? It doesn't matter. I'm outta here."

"Patches, wait..."

"Why? So you can fuck off for a life of torment miles away? Its not like I can get inside my Maserati and drive to Chelsea when I feel like visiting, now can I?"

We stared at each other what felt like ages, but in reality, it was probably just a couple of minutes.

"I don't know what to say..." I said, at least, my hands hanging hopeless and useless at my sides.

"I'm not angry. I'm not even disappointed. Josh, do you have any idea how it is to live on the streets? Even more so, when you're gay? You invite me into your home, you god damn save my life, you actually treat me like an actual human being, you allow me to read your kid a good night story, and you kiss me like a lover would. Didn't you think what might happen in all of this?"

He was gone, out the door, before I could think of an answer.

**

To make matters worse, Thomas refused to go to sleep before saying good night to his mother, and, icing on the cake, I had no idea where Jen was.

It was already way past his bed time, approximately 20:25 and I had to explain as best I could that his mom was visiting a friend and would only be back in the morning.

That wasn't nearly good enough for him and he was in sulk mode until I forced myself to discipline him verbally which I hated to do.

He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve a mother who cared more about where her next drink would come from, rather than the welfare of her child.

Eventually, out of sheer desperation, I placed a little bit of brandy inside his hot chocolate milk. I knew it couldn't do him any damage, and within minutes of consuming it, his angelic face was fast asleep, no matter how hard he had fought against it.

With tears in my eyes at the thought and guilt of having to give my son alcohol just to get him to fall asleep, I made sure he was warm and covered snugly, as it was freezing outside, once more.

Story of our lives, in rural village winter seasons.

I had just finished making a pot of coffee for when Jen would eventually stumble back home, when I heard a soft knock on the back door. Excitement at who I thought it was rippled through me, but I kept my composure.

"I waited until Thomas's light was off. Can I come in?"

"Community hall attic too cold?"

"Nah, not at all. I just wanted to...well...you know..."

He wasn't looking at me, but rather anywhere but at me.

"Come here, you daft sod..." I whispered and he as as he was told. I hugged this beautiful man to me, burying my face inside his neck area and holding him very tight.

In turn, I felt him gently kiss my cheek and nuzzled his own face against my own.

He had clearly used the bathroom facilities inside the hall, because he smelled of the soaps we stocked inside. His hair was also soft, washed, clean as a whistle, as I gently ran my fingers through it.

It was only then, that I felt his body shake. Tremble, even.

Thinking he was cold, I pulled back to make sure, and low and behold ...this big, skinny, ripped bad ass, was crying.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay...you'll see," I said, still caressing his blond, long strands of hair.

"No, it won't...you won't be around no more..." he sniffled, trying his best not to show emotion, but doing an awful job of it.

He obviously, in living on the streets and the way that he presented himself, was known as rather a hard man...and no doubt wanted to lose that street cred. Even in front of me.

"I promise, I'll do my best to visit, if I get the job. I promise. And you know, I'm a vicar, so I can't lie, right?"

A small, mediocre laugh escaped his lips, and I saw him rolling his eyes at my pathetic attempt at a joke.

"Why...why am I so attracted to you...?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

"I mean, I'm a homeless hard ass. You, you're a man of God, with a family. Even if we are both gay, we shouldn't mix. At all. And still..."

I closed the distance between us. His arms clung around my neck, whilst mine embraced his sides and lower back. There was almost no space between our bodies.

"...and still I can't get you out of my mind. God knows...if this is wrong, why does it feel so, so right?" I replied, finishing his sentence.

There was more, much more we could have said to each other right then, perhaps, just maybe, even as far as those three little words...

Simple when used on their own, yet powerful when placed into that universal sentence. Neither of us had the guts to, though.

"Stay with me..." I said, kissing him on his temple.

"But...your wife...?"

"Patches, stay with me. Please?"

I saw the conflict in his eyes.

"Fuck...well, just set that fancy mobile phone of yours to an early alarm. I don't want more trouble with your missus..."

"Deal," I said before once more, falling into his arms and kissing him as if it was the final few hours on this Earth. He, in turn, gave as good back as he got.

No one existed in those few moments but ourselves. Dared I say it...I had only gone and fallen head over heels for a homeless pretty boy.

I had tasted the forbidden fruit, and Lord help me, I couldn't get enough.

THANKS FOR READING!!

Want more? Lemme know!!

Also, what next for Patches and Vicar Josh? Can they realistically be together? How will Jen and Thomas handle that?

Stay safe xx

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