THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO NATE
By
Encolpius
Author's Nate: This is a story I have tried to write a few times. Bits and pieces have shown up in other stories but finally I got it done the way I wanted.
Feedback is always appreciated! Write to Encolpius1@protonmail.com
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ONE
This happened a while ago. When I was young. Before everybody had the internet. It existed but almost nobody had it. Not then. It was AOL time.
I was 16 1/2 when my parents found out I was gay. It was my Mom. She was snooping. Mom's know, I guess. They know before anybody else. I had bought a book at Waldenbooks and I had sneaked it in the house. It had taken all the courage I had to buy it. To actually go to the cash register, lay it down and pay for it. I hid it undernath my chest of drawers. I was careful. It was hidden well. It was called the New Joy of Gay Sex. I had read every word of it. The chapter on blowjobs. On anal sex. About porn. I didn't know who Jeff Stryker was but I knew he was striaght identifying, always topped and never kissed a guy. I didn't know about Joey Stefano either but I knew he was gay, bottomed and enjoyed.it. Even though I had never seen either of them, I liked Stefano better. But she found it. Found the book. And she confronted me about it. I tried to lie but it didn't work. Cornered, I admitted it. I was gay.
Here is the important point: at that point in my life, I hadn't actually done anything. I had done anything with a boy. Definitely not had sex. But never kissed a boy. Never held hands. Nothing.
She cried. My dad was angry.
"How can you know that you are gay?" he demanded.
Well, boys are built with a sexual arousal meter, I guess. Seems a pretty reliable means to me. I didn't say that of course.
"How can you know that you are gay if you've never even been with a girl?"
It didn't seem logical to me.
My mom cried. And then she did something terrible. Stupid, really. She called her prayer warrior friends. She had a need. Her eldest son, Nathan, her adopted son, was struggling with same sex attraction. They needed to pray for healing, for clarity, for God's annointing power My soul needed saving. I thought I wass saved. 13 years, 1 month, 10 days into life, I had kneeled in a small chapel at Norman Baptist Assembly and prayed the sinner's prayer and had been baptized the following week. Buried in Christ, raised again to walk in newness of life. Turns out if you are gay, you aren't saved. You can't be a Christian. By the next day, the whole church knew it. By the next day, the whole school knew it.
I wasn't really all that welcome in the youth group anymore. I couldn't really sit with them in the back at church. I sat with my parents in the front. Brother Jim gave 2 sermons about being gay. About Sodom and Gomorrah. The other was I Cor 6:9-10 and Romans 1 AIDS was God's wrath on gay people Anyway, he was preaching at me. It was humiliating.
There was a program. I lived at home during the week but I went to the program after school on Frday until Sunday afternoon. 13 weeks. I went on Friday evening and there were a dozen and half boys there and it was all day Saturday and then we went to church on Sunday. We were the gay boys there, the pray away the gay boys. They were nice. They pitied us. There were a ton of rules. What you could and couldn't do, there and at home. It was bad there but home was worse. The only person I was allowed to speak to was my father. I ate separately from the rest of the family. I couldn't close the door of my bedroom. It had to stay open all the time. When I took a shower, my father was there in the bathroom to time me. 5 mintues, no more. When I got dressed, I could close the door but he timed me. I had 5 minutes.
I had to keep a moral inventory. I had to tell them every thing I had done wrong. Every bad thought. Every wet dream. Every everything. It had to be good enough for it to seem like I was really participating but not so good like I was yanking their chain and making stuff up. I couldn't quite get the hang of it. I was enough of a failure that I actually got beat with Bibles. Three men held me down and two others literally beat me with Bibles. You might not think it hurts but I peed blood for 3 or 4 days.
They wanted me to do the year long course. I was making progress but not enough, they said. My mom said no. The 13 week course cost 10 grand and I was still gay. It was long after that, after my failure to get made straight that I cleaned out my locker at school. Brought everything home. So they wouldn't have to.
All I had in my pocket was a piece of paper that read "God forgive me". It was in my dad's workshop. There was this wooden bar up high enough that my feet wouldn't touch. I made a noose and put it around my neck. I kicked the chair out of the way. I fell down, the rope tightened and I started to strangle to death. I kicked wildily, I tugged at my throat. I couldn't breath.
The bar cracked and broke.
I fell to the ground and there was a loud racket. They came running. I was on the ground sobbing. I wasn't dead. My dad was angry. He accused me of wanting attention. Of having done it for show. Still, I had to see a psychiatrist. He gave me medicine. I didn't like it. I couldn't sleep. Worse, when I did masturbate (which wasn't often) instead semen coming out, it went backwards to my bladder and it was painful. I tried not to take the medicine as much as I could.
At the end of the school year, I got jumped in the bathroom at school and beaten by a half dozen guys. I knew all of them. My younger brother Sam guarded the door for them. Then he kicked me in the ribs when I was down. When I came to , I was pretty disoriented but I stumbled to class, bloody and bruised. It was a big deal. The cops were called. I didn't say anything. Sam told me at home that if I told, he would kill me. I didn't say anything.
San was everything I wasn't I had been adopted as a baby when my parents thought they couldn't get pregnant after yuears of tryying. Within 6 months of my adoption, she got pregnant with Sam. He was an athelete, like my dad. Even though he was 16 months younger, he had hit six foot a full year before I hit my growth spurt between the 9th and 10th grades. I was the better student. He wa the better athlete. Athletic achievement was important to my parents. We had a sister too, Rachel, and she was 7 at the time and she was special to me and I think she loved me too. ,
I never went back to school again.
My mom tried to homeschool me. That was a joke. I just took the GED instead.
We lived in a small town that was about 20 miles from a larger town. I enrolled in community college and got a job at the Winn-Dixie in the bigger town bagging groceries. After a few months, somebody complained to the manager about me and he promoted me to be a stock boy. It was more money and I didn't really have to talk to customers too much. I was always willing to work. Saturday closing and open on Sunday. No problem. That meant I didn't have to go to church. Just like school, I never again stepped foot in that church.
Then I met a boy in my Psych class. His name was Connor. He was black haired and kind of skinny and tall. He had a goatee and I guessed he looked better with it than without and I don't know that he looked that good with it. His features were really angular. . But he was nice and we sat in the student lounge talking before going to the Waffle House to have coffee. We talked about all kinds of things but not really sex or sexual orientation. He was funny and smart and I liked him.
"There's a rumor that you're gay" he said "Just so you know, I am too"
I smiled. And this incredible wave of electricity swept over my whole body. It was this powerful, overwhelming feeling. I was breathing hard and everything was in vivid focus. I was anxious but excited. It was like a million tiny live wires were being pressed against my body. I was breathing hard and part of me wanted to rush out and leave and get away but I didn't. The greater part wanted more. And my crotch tingled. I wanted to reach down and tug at it. I had never felt anything like it before, ever. It was incredible and exciting.
"You wantt to go to my place?" he asked
I did.
It wasn't a fancy apartment, far from it. It was a poor student's place. I thought it was a palace. His and free. Free of everything. I longed for that. I really wanted that. I wanted to be free
We kissed.
Wow. I had kissed a boy. For the first time. And I liked it. A lot.
My tongue met his and my body was against his. He was skinny and I wasn't. Far from it. I hadn't been skinny a year ago but I had packed on nearly 30 lbs in the last year. He was skinny. Wiry. Hard. I liked that. He even smelled masculine. Like Old Spice deodarant and Dial soap with the smell of sweat coming through. I puresed my mouth agains his, my body against his, ramming my ongue in his mouth. And I had an erection. An uncomfortable erection. Pressed against my jeans and filling up the space.
"You have the prettiest eyes" he said.
They were blue, bright blue, and highligted my black hair and freckles across my nose. I thought my face was fat and round and I didn't feel handsome or sexy but I was so excited to to be kissing this boy. This guy And I could feel his erection too. We took our clothes off. It was the first time I had ever really been naked in front of another person. I was shy and embarassed. He stripped off completely, a glorious of body of bone and muscle. I kept my shirt on. I was ashamed. I was overweight.
He touched me. Down there. No one had ever touched me down there.
I was so anxious but I loved his hand on me. We were pressed together and kissed again. My bare body was against his. I felt his hardness. It was so stiff and rigid. It was an incredble feeling to be touching another person hardness. I knew what he felt from my touhing him but I didn't really know. On his bed, he got between my legs. grabbed me and put it in his mouth.
If you've seen sunrises all your life, how do you describe the glory of the first sun rise seen by a formerly blind man? That was the feeling I felt. Blind but now I could see. Deaf but got my hearing listening to a concerto. It was beyond amazing. Warm and wet and sucking and tongue, a hand masaging the shaft, it was the most amzing sensation I had ever felt. I don't know if he was skilled or not but it was the best blow job of my life. None since have ever completely caputred the sheer joy and fear and anxiety and passion of that moment. it was a revelation. I didn't know anything could feel so good.
I had to make him stop. I was going to ejaculate. I told him I wanted to do him.
His dick was beautiful. Long and full sized but not no super thick. Perfectly shaped. Perfect. I stroked it, lightly, genrtly as he moaned. It felt good. I put the tip of it in my mouth. Sucked on is hard, flcking my tongue at the head. I had read the section in the New Joy of Gay Sex about blowjobs over and over and I now finally had the opportunity to put it into action. I was throbbing hard as I did it too. I was so excited to be holding and sucking another's piece. I tugged at his his balls, lowridding and full. He moaned again and I went as deep as I could. I didn't gag, thogh. I went up and down on his rigid shaft, using my tongue.
I guess he was as excited as I was. "I want to fuck you" he said
I let him.
On my hands and knees on his bed, my legs apart. I felt the coldness of lube, the slick, almost slimy sensation and then he pushed a finger in my hole.
"Goddam, you are tight" he said.
He had to know then I was a virgin. I didn't ask him to use a condom but he did. He rolled it on and he got behind me and angled it and pushed it into me. One smooth motion. All the way. Did it hurt? I don't know; maybe it did. It felt uncomfortable at first. Really full. Like I needed to go to the bathroom. Did it hurt? I don't remember it hurting. .
I loved it.
I loved every bit about it. I loved that feeling of fullness, the motion of his hardness in me, the sensation across my prostate, my own rigid member flopping up and hitting my belly as he sodomized me. His hands on my hip, his body gainst mine. He wasn't rough but he wasn't gentle either and I loved that. I wanted to touch myself but I feared the result as i was very close. The sensation from him in me was overpowering. Overpowering and tremendous. But soon as he moved back and forth in me the sensation was too much.
I whimpered and groaned, the sensation being beyond amazing. I couldn't control it. My dick twitched and throbbed and I ejaculated right there. He pounded on me a bit more before he too ejaculated.
It was amazing. The best. I knew then that there was nothing I could do but to be gay. Having done that, it was perfect and right and met every need I had. It was me far more than it could ever be with a girl. And I wanted it to happen again. Again and again and again. We kissed and we cuddled a bit afterwards and I loved the earthy smell of him as he had sweated.
Over the next couple of weeks, I came back to his apartment as often as I could. To do the same thing. And the more we did it, the more I wanted to do it. I understood perfectly why people wanted to have sex. Sex was, quite simply, the best senstaion you can ever feel.
My mom noted my changed demeanoor.
"You seem really happy" she said. I didn't respnded. "Have you met someone special?"
He was 22. I was 17 1/2. It was technically statutory rape.
"I don't know what you are talking about," I said.
I broke it off. I couldn't let Connor get in trouble because of me. He didn't deserve that.
Then the next thing happened
It was March and still cool outside. I had a bad cold, a virus. I had called in sick to work and stayed in bed, cold medicine keeping me asleep pretty much all day. At that point, things weren't too bad at home. We had kind of settled into an uneasy truce. At that point, I was insisting that I was basically asexual. Not gay or straight or anything. Uninterested and uninvolved, on the sideliness and not in the game and not cheering for either side. It was a way of just sidestepping the whole issue and kind of opting out for a while. They sort of honored that. I still kept the door to my room open as if to say that I had no secrets but I could shower freely. I did have to sometimes take care of some necessary business in stolen moments like that though. Just to keep the pressures at bay. I didn't attend church anymore because of work and they didn't insist. And the truth was that they weren't going very much either. If I had been humiliated, they had too. I had talked about wanting to transfer to a regular college about 100 miles away but they were reluctant and I was anxious about college, even though I was doing good in community college
I woke up and it was dark. I was massively thirsty. Even though I still had the drugged grogginess hanging over me, I got up out of bed and went to the kitchen to get a drink of water. When I got to the living room, I heard my parents in the kitchen talking. I knew instantly that they were talking about me.
"I just can't get that thought out of my mind" my dad said. "Him being penetrated. Somebody, some man, putting his ... taking it in the ass. It's just disgusting. As hard as I try to push that aside and deal wtih it, I just can't. It's just so outside of the realm of what is normal and nautral that I just can't put it aside. I'm not proud of this, I wish it weren't this way, but sometimes I look at him and see that in my mind and just get disgusted. I'm sorry but two males together is perverted"
There was a pause before my mother said "I wonder if we had known how things were going to turn out, if we had known then that he would turn out this way whether we would have adopted him then or not"
That's when I walked into the kitchen.
They fell immediately silent. The way you do when you are caught.
"I was thirsty. Just needed to get a glass of water" I said
"Are you feeling better sweetie?" she asked
I nodded. "Nate .." my dad started to say
"It doesn't matter" I cut him off
"It does matter. It's been difficult for all of us, all of us. For you and for us. We are working through it as best we can, as a family. It was just ... frustration, Nate. That's all. We don't love you any less. You are our son. You are our son as surely as Sam is. As much our child as Rachel"
"It doesn't matter" I said again.
My mom was crying when I went back to my room. I closed the door and I went back to bed.
We talked some more after that, or they talked and I listened but it was the day our relationship really ended as far as I was concerned I made my plans carefully. I asked my boss about transferring to another store to work, in another town or city. Even though it was a big company, people at my level didn't really transfer. Only managers. Stock boys were a dime a dozen. But he was sympathetic to my situation and he had a freind in a city in Central Florida that owned an independent store. It was more of a produce and meat operation than a full service store but it specialized in high quality products. I talked to him on the phone and he offered me a job, based on my boss's recommendation I had saved my money carefully and I had most of the last year's worth. My new boss, helped me find a realatively cheap furnished studio apartment not too far from my new job.
My parents asked me what I wanted to do for my 18th birthday. I told them nothing. I had no friends and I didn't care. Beacuse I didn't want to have the arguement, I didn't tell them my plan. I had every penny I had ever saved ready. I got up, packed some clothes and toileteries in a duffel bag and wrote my note. I left it in the kitchen, made a couple of sandwiches and packed a lunch, got into my truck and drove to the bus station. My bus left at 9:45 am.
The note read:
"I am gay. I can't help being gay. I tried not to be. I tried as hard as I knew how to not be gay. But I am. And, honestly, now I don't really want to be anything other than what I am. I know that it means that I will never be the kind of son you can be proud of. When you adopted me, you promised to care for me until I was grown. I had to follow your rules and respect your decisions until I was grown. But starting today, I am grown I don't want to continue doing what we have been doing. You don't owe me anything and I don't owe you anything. I don't want to be a part of your family and I don't think you really want me to be, So I am leaving. I took some clothes but that's all except for the Bible you gave me.. I am leaving the truck at the bus station with the keys under the driver's side mat"
And that's how I started my life.