6 comments/ 96754 views/ 14 favorites Rev Jim & Father Ted By: 80niner Part One Paul stopped me outside our high school gyn after last class. We were both seniors and skipped last class. He said, “You’re pretty good with a basketball. I was wondering if you’d like to stop by our church gym and shoot a few hoops after school.” I hesitated. “Jim, I mean Reverend Jim, most always plays with us. You’ll like him,” said Paul, “he’s not a bit like a preacher.” “I’m not religious but I guess the church won’t fall down if I stop by for a while.” “Reverend Jim says you Methodists are too stodgy and preach too much about sin. He says we Free Christians have a better outlook.” “Methodists are Christians,” I pointed out. “He’s talking about us members of the Free, United Church of God” said Paul. “Stop by. You’ll enjoy it.” I was a bit relieved that he wasn’t propositioning me. The rumor was that Paul might be totally gay. I figured not much could go wrong on church property, especially with the preacher around. Paul looked at my feet. “Bring your own gym shoes. We have jock straps and a uniform you can wear. And there’s towels so you can shower after. You won’t have to go home sweaty.” *** Half a dozen boys were fooling around, shooting hoops in the musty gym. The doors were closed. The athletic aroma of stale sweat hung heavily in the air. Some of the boys I recognised. One, I knew, was from the Catholic school down the block. Another man, though I thought I must be wrong, appeared to be the middle aged priest from his church. Paul waved at me and then directed me downstairs to a small locker room and told me to look into locker #17. “I picked out everything for you,” he said. The narrow room held perhaps twenty lockers, ten on a side. A long bench ran down the middle. Working on a knotted shoelace, sat a man I took to be in his early thirties. On seeing me he rose quickly and extended his hand. “I’m Reverend Jim. You must be Jay. Paul said you might drop by.” The preacher was totally naked. I took the hand and tried not to look down at a limp penis emerging from the thick mass of red pubic hair and heavy, low slung balls. “Excuse the attire,” said the man. He smiled and set the shoe aside. Suit up and we’ll join the others.” He pulled a jock strap from his locker and stepped into it. I undressed quickly, turning my back when I shed my pants and adjusted my jock strap. I felt his eyes caressing my bare buns. “We hide nothing in the eyes of God,” said Reverend Jim, softly. “We glory in our every likeness to him.” I waited, half expecting a hand to grab my bare butt. When I turned, The man had donnned white shorts and a T-shirt. He sat to pull on a pair of white wool socks and laced his expensive, leather-tops, basketball shoes. He waited for me to lace my shoes then led the way up the narrow stairs to the gym. Looking up, I watched the strudy, muscular thighs and wondered at the fineness os after school.” I hesitated. “Jim, I mean Reverend Jim, most always plays with us. You’ll like him,” said Paul, “he’s not a bit like a preacher.” “I’m not religious but I guess the church won’t fall down if I stop by for a while.” “Reverend Jim says you Methodists are too stodgy and preach too much about sin. He says we Free Christians have a better outlook.” “Methodists are Christians,” I pointed out. “He’s talking about us members of the Free, United Church of God” said Paul. “Stop by. You’ll enjoy it.” I was a bit relieved that he wasn’t propositioning me. The rumor was that Paul might be totally gay. I figured not much could go wrong on church property, especially with the preacher around. Paul looked at my feet. “Bring your own gym shoes. We have jock straps and a uniform you can wear. And there’s towels so you can shower after. You won’t have to go home sweaty.” *** Half a dozen boys were fooling around, shooting hoops in the musty gym. The doors were closed. The athletic aroma of stale sweat hung heavily in the air. Some of the boys I recognised. One, I knew, was from the Catholic school down the block. Another man, though I thought I must be wrong, appeared to be the middle aged priest from his church. Paul waved at me and then directed me downstairs to a small locker room and told me to look into locker #17. “I picked out everything for you,” he said. The narrow room held perhaps twenty lockers, ten on a side. A long bench ran down the middle. Working on a knotted shoelace, sat a man I took to be in his early thirties. On seeing me he rose quickly and extended his hand. “I’m Reverend Jim. You must be Jay. Paul said you might drop by.” The preacher was totally naked. I took the hand and tried not to look down at a limp penis emerging from the thick mass of red pubic hair and heavy, low slung balls. “Excuse the attire,” said the man. He smiled and set the shoe aside. Suit up and we’ll join the others.” He pulled a jock strap from his locker and stepped into it. I undressed quickly, turning my back when I shed my pants and adjusted my jock strap. I felt his eyes caressing my bare buns. “We hide nothing in the eyes of God,” said Reverend Jim, softly. “We glory in our every likeness to him.” I waited, half expecting a hand to grab my bare butt. When I turned, The man had donnned white shorts and a T-shirt. He sat to pull on a pair of white wool socks and laced his expensive, leather-tops, basketball shoes. He waited for me to lace my shoes then led the way up the narrow stairs to the gym. Looking up, I watched the strudy, muscular thighs and wondered at the fineness of those curly, golden hairs gleaming on tanned skin. We wound up playing four on four. Some of the guys were pretty good. Nobody called fouls. Preach played on the opposing team. The game never got rough but there was a lot more grab-ass than coach would have tolerated in gym period. My buns were squeezed, patted and slapped numerous times and more than once I felt a hand cup my balls or brush my cock surreptitiously. Of course there was the usual rubbing against each other under the basket but I got the impression that there was more than soft crotches pressuring my butt. After the game, in which nobody had seemed to keep score, the eight of us jammed into the locker room, stripped and crowded into the small shower stall with only three shower heads for eight to share. Wet naked bodies rubbed against each other with much hollering, laughing as we soaped and pressed for a place under a pulsing shower head. The pressure became more intense as we soaped our groins and though no one threw a boner there were signs of growth in most pelvic regions. As we rinsed off, weightier pendulums swung from their pivots and most seemed to take pride in their size. Definitely, Reverend Jim‘s mass had increased in that department though he seemed to take no notice of it. The man I took to be a priest was confirmed as Father Ted when Lew Burke from the Catholic school called him that. Father Ted was thin with a mass of back curly hair covering his chest and though thinning a bit at his navel became a thick mass again at his crotch from which a thick, stubby cock emerged. The man never strayed far from Burke who was half again as large and towered over the mature priest. We filed back to the locker room and toweled ourselves dry. There was a certain amount of horseplay, the snapping of towels at bare butts. I got one good one on my tail. It still stung when Reverend Jim clapped his hands. “All right, boys. Time to offer thanks.” The boys, still naked, three on each side, stood facing each other across the narrow bench deviding the narrow room. The Reverend stood at one end, Father Ted at the other. All eyes focused on the minister’s mid section. His cock had become rather heavily elongated. A pink head peeked from a retreating foreskin. The expanding cock was not yet as large as others in the room. There was no doubt that Paul’s dong exceeded all others in length if not in thickness. The priest’s thick cock also appeared to be growing. Some of the others appeared close to full erection as though in anticipation. “Oh Lord we thank thee for the presence of one who has not been present before. We thank him for his attendance and beg him to partake in our services.” The minister of God looked to me. “Will you join us?” “What do I have to do?” Preacher Jim smiled, benignly. “Nothing is expected that you have not done in the past. Nothing is asked that you will not enjoy.” I looked to Paul who nodded his assent. “Our non-denominational, holy rites, blessed by our lord, were surely practiced among his deciples. You may participate only in those things you feel open to. No one will force you to do what you do not care to.” “You’ll like it, Jay,” said Paul, standing across from me. I nodded. “All right.” The minister closed his eyes and looked heavenward, ”We ask Your blessing, Oh Lord, and we purify ourselves in each other’s presence. Amen.” “Amen,” said everyone. The priest’s voice was deeper that the rest. The preacher grasped his cock in his right hand. Magically, it seemed, it had doubled in size. I looked around the room. The others held their erections in their fists. Each faced a partner and a churning fist and the emergence and withdrawal of a cylinder of hard flesh. “The Lord bless us,” grunted the minister.” “The Lord bless us,” repeated the chorus. “The Lord bless us.” I parroted as my hand moved on my cock, suddenly as hard any in the room.” “We purify ourselves in thy presence, Oh Lord.” I joined the others in response. The Preacher gritted his teeth and moaned. “Thy will be done.” His fist slowed and squeezed. The purplish-red head of the glans expanded and the first shot of man juice spurted beyond his fist and splashed on the bench in front of us. One by one, each muttered, “Thy will be done,” and spurted his climax onto the bench before him. We all stripped the last drops from a dripping member. A moist cloth was passed among us and we wiped off any residue. Everyone dressed quickly and left. As Paul and I lwent out, Reverend Jim stood at the door. He smiled. “Glad you came, Jay. I hope you enjoyed our little exercise.” I nodded and smiled at his choice of words. “I trust you won’t breathe a word of our ceremony to outsiders.” “No sir.” “I hope you understand that our ritual helps you avoid temptation. Healthy exercise and a release of our bodily fluids cleanses our systems and clears our brains.” He hugged Paul. “This young man is a pillar in the church. An upstanding young man, aren’t you Paul?” “I hope so, Jim.” Jim patted me on the ass. “We hope to see you again.” Then to Paul, “Be sure to bring your friend back. He’ll love us once he gets into it.” We had walked almost a block from the church in silence before Paul turned to me. “Are you mad at me for taking you there?” “More like I was surprised.” “Didn’t you enjoy it?” “I never expected to circle jerk with a preacher and a priest.” “Isn’t Jim neat? He understands that a guy needs to get his pecker off. Hell. Everybody beats his meat once in a while.” “I guess,” I said, “but a preacher showing hard cock? And the priest jacking off with a member of his church, probably an altar boy.” “Jim says we all have the right to feel good as long as we don’t hurt anybody. Did you check out the boner on Father Ted? He’s bigger around than a cucumber.” I nodded. I bet he could really make a woman squeal.” “Priests aren’t allowed to be with women.” “What about altar boys?” “I think he’s screwing Lew. Lew walks kind of funny sometimes. Can you imagine having that salami rammed up your tail?” “It hurts just thinking about it.” We paused at the corner, two blocks from my house. Paul lived half a block down a side street. “Want to stop off at my house? Mom won’t be home for another hour at least.” “What for?” Paul smiled. “Maybe something will come up.” He looked at my crotch, meaningfully. “Maybe it already has.” “I don’t know. We did that once today. Isn’t that why Jim said we did it, to stop temptation?” “Jim also says tthe best way to kill temptation is to yield to it.” Paul was right. I was getting hard. “I can’t stay long.” Once inside his front door and having called out to make sure his mother was not home, Paul led us to his room. He kicked off his shoes and, opening his belt, dropped his pants and kicked them across the room. His shirt and shorts followed. His near erection flopped against his thigh. He moved his hips to make it swing, pendulum fashion as it thickened. “Do you want it?” Paul teased. I tossed the last of my clothes in a heap by the bed. “You mean to play with?” “Any old way you want,” said Paul. “I want to play with yours.” “I guess we could help each other,” I said. “We’ve done that.” I reached out and felt Paul’s salami expand further in my hand. I manipulated the skin up over the head and back down. “So fucking good,” breathed Paul. “A strange hand always feels better, but what I really want is to suck on it,” “That’s pretty queer.” “I am queer,” said Paul, “I dream about getting you in my mouth.” “Have you really sucked a cock all the way?” Paul nodded. “Not as much as I’d like.” He looked down at my cock in my hand. “You don’t have to do me.” I let go of him and fell back on the bed and waved my pulsing boner at him. “Well c’mon,” I whispered,” do you want to chew this weinie or not?” Paul lay with his long, slim schlong facing me as he swallowed my cock. I toyed with his, worked it, teased it with my fingers while I twisted and made fucking motions in that warm, wet, suctioning mouth. I came and Paul shot off in my hand. *** “Take your neighbor in your hand and repeat after me,” said Reverend Jim. We stood, wet and naked, after leaving the shower room for the locker room under the church gym. It was the third or fourth time I had been there with Paul. Tom Acher, a pimply faced youth, an inch taller and probably an inch longer than me, reached over and grasped my pecker. I glanced down and noticed that some one held his in the same way. I grasped my neighbor who, this day, happened to be Father Ted. It was the first mature man’s cock I ever touched. It felt huge. He looked at me and winked. On his far side, he held Lew Burkes slender cock in his fingers. I looked around and saw each boy hoding the rod of the boy or man on his right. “I must love my neighbor as myself,” said Jim. “I must love my neighbor as myself,” we all repeated. Tom gave me a special squeeze and thinking that was a part of the ritual I squeezed the man on my right. There was an answering throb. “As my neighbor loves me I will love him.” We chanted the response. “Let us all love one another, Amen.” As the “Amen” left his lips the Reverend turned and presented his smooth, plump ass tthe room. As he bent forward, he reached out on either side of him and took the unattended cocks of the nearest boys, one in each hand and squeezed each growing cock three times. “Now,” said the minister, “who would administer to God’s suplicant?” “We will,” replied everyone but me. Forming a line I watched each boy approach the man who held his ass raised in the air. Each in turn, knelt and kissed on one or the other of the broad, hairy, ass cheeks. Then Each dipped his finger in a pot of oily substance and smeared a daub on the winking asshole of the prostrate man. Some, I am sure penetrated the forbidden place. As the priest knelt to place his lips on the ass in front of him, Paul looked to me, a question in his eyes. I shrugged. I could play their game to a point. Beyond that I would not go. I knelt and leaned forward to touch my lips to the preachers nether cheek. I did not touch the pot or the target. The man still in the attitude of submission must have been counting. Again he said, “Amen.” He paused. “Is there one who would deliver his special offering to the annointed place?” It occurred to me that Reverend Jim was asking for a volunteer to cornhole him. I looked around. Everyone had a stiff instrument sticking out. Some were stroking themselves, others were stroking each other though not vigorousy. Paul stood apart, his erection towering to his navel. I wondered if he would volunteer. Tom Acher, the boy who had grasped me, stepped forward. “I will.” “Bless you, my son.” It was very ritualized as though this were a ceremony performed often. Tom knelt behind the kneeling minister. He anointed his thick prick with oil. He moved on his knees between the other’s legs and brought his rigid instrument to the point of impact and thrust forward. There was an audible expelling of air from the minister’s lungs as his rider sank slowly inside him until he was balls to buttocks. “Go!” said one of the boys. “Fuck him,” said another. “Fuck ass for Jesus.” said another. “I shall be crucified on a spike of flesh,” intoned the minister. “Amen.” “The flesh is mortified,” said the minister, “and I am penitent.” “Amen.” “I am about to receive a holy offering,” said the penitent. “He will be well fucked,” said the chorus of boys. My cock was hard and felt close to bursting. “Amen,” moaned the preacher, “I will receive his benediction.” “His load will be well received, deep within.” chorused the boys. “Yea, deep within my bowels.” “And he will remember this fuck until the next one.” “And far beyond,” moaned the man, “for he is deep within me and shall be remembered by the depth of his stroke and the joy it brings forth.” “I’m going to come,” shouted Tom.” “The coming is near,” intoned the boys. Tom groaned, thrust his hips forward and froze in that position. We all knew he was delivering his offering deep into the preacher’s ass. Preacher Jim turned and faced us, still on his knees. His face was red and he was sweating profusely. He seemed out of breath. His swollen erection pointed toward us as we stood in a semi circle about him. He looked up. “Is there a volunteer who would draw forth the communion offering?” Paul stepped forward. “I will.” Jim held his cock in his fingers and in a simple gesture, offered it to the volunteer. Paul did not hesitate. He lowered his head. His mouth enveloped the thick, short rod and his lips sank quickly to the crisp red hairs at the base. He developed a rhythm of up and down and everyone watched the cheeks hollow in suction on the up stroke. The action against the older man’s prostrate had to have increased his load and shortened the time it took him to shoot. At the first warning, Paul removed his lips and held the swollen head over a small, silver eucharist cup. He milked the spurting contents, glob by thick glob. The minister nodded with satisfaction at the pool of semen on the botom. He smiled. “Would our young guest care to add his contribution to the chalice?“ “Do it, Jay,” urged Paul. “I’ll help. “I don’t know.” He nodded at my pulsing hard on. “It’s got to come out sometime.” “Cum,” urged one of the boys, ”let him drain your balls.” “Join,“ encouraged another. They all gathered around me, slowlyworking their dicks in their hands as though they feared coming too soon. I sat on the bench. Paul, on his knees, maneuvered between mine. Before, he had merely licked until I had shot my load. This time he took it all to the base and I felt his tongue among the short hairs, tickling the upper reaches of my balls. On the first upstroke, he raised his eyes to me. He looked as though he were telling me that this was what he had been born to do. That he was a cocksucker and girls would never be a part of his life. I also knew he was my friend. The sensations were fantastic. The guilt was there. The knowing I should not be there, doing this, was there. Most of all I knew others should not be watching. I told myself that I was not queer. I knew I enjoyed it just as much with the few older women I had been with. I told myself that what it came down to was whatever made my cock feel good was all right. It really did not make that much difference whether the holes or tlips were male or female. Rev. Jim & Father Ted Ch. 02 “I am sure,” said the priest, “that Jesus met this way with his deciples.” “You believe Jesus Christ sucked cock?” “Undoubtedly. His deciples most certainly did. With no female companionship, they had to relieve each other’s tensions. Men, lacking the third hole, must use the two they have to fulfil their earthly needs.” “Jesus Christ, Cocksucker,” I giggled. “Though that may be true, we seldom speak of our lord in that vein.” “How do you speak of it?” “We look on it as a communion. A transference of the life force.” “And when you plug Reverend Jim’s back door?” “He receives the full gift.” “Do you receive that gift too?” “Occasionally, though I am more prone these days, to give than receive.” “I’m not going to let you put that horse cock up my ass.” “No I suppose not. It takes practice to accept it without pain.” “But I sure would like to pound your ass, sometime.” “Because I’m a priest?” “Because you’re a fucking priest and most priests don’t do that.” “I do not touch women.” “But you do fuck boys.“ “Let’s shower,” said the priest. We picked up our clothes and I followed his lean, hairy ass down the stairs to the shower. We turned on adjoining shower heads and soaped up. He worked a mass of lather in his crotch and worked it back between his legs and around his butt. He reached over to soap me and worked on me until I had another solid hard-on. Father Ted stepped from under the spray and lathered his crack some more. He bent forward and rested his hands against the opposite wall. “Come on. Give it to me. The soap will make it slick and smooth.” “You mean up your ass?” “Of course. Come on. How often do you get a chance to shove that rammer up a priest’s pussy?” I moved behind him and found his tight little bung hole in the suds with my finger. I aimed and my hard cock entered with little resistance. “You are load,” grunted the priest. “You fill my man cunt very well.” “You wanted a fucking. You’ll to get one.” I pulled back and slammed it home. I heard him grunt. I had a hand on each of his slender hips and I watched the cylinder of my cock piston into the sudsy, brown hole. As he tightened to keep me from withdrawing, the insides of that brown ring clung to me and a part of that pinkish-brown opening turned inside out. On the down stroke he opened up to let me ram hard into him until belly and balls slapped against his spare buttocks. “You like taking it in the ass?” I taunted. “Love it,” grunted the priest. “Pound me.” “Right up your sanctified ass.” “Blessed once by the Cardinal‘s cock, itself,” breathed the priest. “you have entered hallowed ground.” “You’re kidding. Was he as good as I am?” “Put your hand on me. Hold it. Work my clit, it needs your hand.” I reached around him to take his enlarged organ in my fist. Each time I slammed into him, his stiff cock seemed to expand. Each time I withdrew it wept a little on my fingers and made them slick. “You didn’t answer me. Was his cock as good as mine?” “So good,” moaned the priest. I had the feeling the priest, being so intimately fucked, could not lie. That in the throes of his screwing he could not withold any truth. At no other time would he have divulged his connection with the Cardinal. “Did you fuck the Cardinal?” “That would have been unthinkable. Only another cardinal or the pope would fuck a cardinal. Only a cardinal could suck a pope. Then the cardinal fucked you.” “A most secret rite and very beautiful. Each new young priest kissed the Cardinal’s holy scepter and took it in his mouth to firm it. He was a very old man,” explained the priest. “It took a great deal of stimulation to make it stand. Someone stood behind him with a golden cross and introduced the longest part up his fundament to keep him firm.” I paused in my stroking. I was close to cuming and I wanted to hear all of his story. “Don’t stop,” wailed the priest, “I need hot sperm in my aching pussy.” I rammed it home and made him grunt. “Did the cardinal make your pussy come like I’m going to?” “He put it in all the way, once, and pulled it out. It was only a ceremony. The man was too old for more.” “Did the old man cop your cherry?” “Hah!” groaned the priest, “I lost that as an altar boy. Father Burns, bless his horny, holy cock, parted my buns and administered his benediction one morning after mass.” “Just like that, he fucked you?” “One day, Father Burns displayed his full arrousal to prove there was nothing abnormal happening to us. He made us kiss it as a show of adoration. He said it was akin to kissing the bishop’s ring.” “Then he cornholed you. I bet that hurt.” “He was not a large man down there, but he was clumsy.” “And you never told?” “Who would believe me? No. I went back the next week, gritted my teeth and bent over for him. I didn’t cry until I left the church.” “You never told.?” “You get used to it. And then...” he paused. “One day you find you’re looking forward to it.” The priest had so taken me with his story that I had slowed down and was barely moving inside him. I pulled back and slammed a hard one into him. “Was it as good as this?” “He was my first,” said the priest. “I think about him every time I bend over for it.” “I’m going to come,” I moaned. I gripped his cock and worked the hard flesh frantically.” “Blessed Jesus. So am I. Hold me tight while you fill my pussy.” “You pussy is an asshole,” I reminded him.” “But it’s a good asshole,” he muttered, “and you make it come alive.” “Are assholes as good as real pussy?” “I don’t know,” said the priest. “Back door pussy is the only kind I ever had. Having a woman is against my vows.” “Your hole feels tight for having so many cocks up it. Does my prick still feel good to you?” “Oh God,” moaned the priest. “Squeeze my cock hard, I’m coming. Can you feel it spurt?” I hunched behind him and rammed my throbbing cock into him as far as I could and froze. I tightened my fingers around his hard, stubby dick and felt the thick white juice pumping out of him and onto the wet floor of the shower to swirl with the warm water down the drain as I emptied my load into him. The water pounded on the two of us. Neither moved for a long time. Finally my cock shrank and slipped out. I turned to the water and reached for my soap to wash away whatever bits of shit that clung to me when I left his brownie hole. I took my soapy fingers and slipped my fingers into that nasty place and was amazed to find it still small and tight and I wondered how I had ever managed to get my hard meat into it. While my fingers probed, the good father turned and grasped my swollen but softening prick. “A nice cock it is,” said the priest. “It stood up well to the task and did its duty. I hope someday to return the favor.” “I’m not ready for that,” I said. “I don’t want that thing up my butt.” “Tis a feeling like no other,” said the priest. “It may be but I don’t want that cucumber up my ass.” “Surely you’ve taken on some your young friends,” reasoned the priest. I continued probing the hole I had just screwed. “And you enjoy the afterplay, probing a man’s plundered pussy after it has milked your seed.” “It’s still an asshole,” I retorted. “But as good as any pussy ever probed by man.” “You don’t know that for sure.” “I hear the confession of many a frustrated woman who longs for the feeling I know each time a hard cock plumbs me. I quiver and ache till the juices spurt from my tender clit.” “Your clit?” “What can it be except one that has grown to the front of that tight little pussy you filled with your sweet juices.?” ‘Well, I guess you’ve swallowed my juices in both your holes.” “I love the feel of it leaking out.” The priest gripped my arm. “You are a good man where it counts.” “You like that?” “I’ve watched you since the first afternoon you came here.” The priest smiled and puckered his lips. “My pussy puckered when I saw your cock.” “You mean your asshole?” “If you must be vulgar and call it that.” “Everybody says you’ve plugged Lew Burke’s ass so much he walks funny. I never figured him to be plugging you.” “He doesn’t,” said the priest. “It would not be fit for an altar boy to service his priest. It is necessary to preserve a certain amount of discipline.” “But it’s all right for you to screw him?” “Of course. It is his duty to serve his mentor as I served mine.” The hot water beat down on us. The priest extended his fingers and circled my cock. Such a fine rod and you handle it so well. You touched my spot.” “Could we do it again sometime?” ”If the lord wishes,” said the priest. “I am sure he will.” Rev Jim & Father Ted Hell, other boys and I had fooled around with each other for years and all the while we dreamed of pussy. And when I finally got a taste of pussy dipping I still found it the most satisfying sensation in the world. I thought about Aunt Polly’’s lips and tried to compare them to Paul’s. I could not. Paul’s were now. They were wet and sucking softly and oh so good. I found my hips making fucking motions toward his mouth. The tsurge began way down at the base of my cock. Paul held the throbbing head over the chalice and miked every drop to mix with the preachers. Eventually everyone except Tom who had piped his load into the preach’s rectum added his contribution into the chalice. Reverend Jim took our offering into the small office at the end of the hall. He had a desk, a couple of chairs, a small refrigerator and a blender. He took a bottle of milk and a can of Hershey’s syrup from the refrigerator. He filled the chalice twice from the milk and made sure that the residue went into the blender. He poured a dollop of syrup into the mix and a teaspoon of malt powder. He added two scoops of ice cream from the freezer. It was obvious this ritual had been performed before. The blender whirled and hummed. The mixture became frothy. I wondered who would have the nerve to take a sip. I knew Paul would. No one else had taken another’s member in his mouth or seemed libable to swallow another man’s juice. Preach took the pitcher from the blender and poured into eight small Dixie cups, moving back and forth until the mixture was evenly distributed. Each cup was approximately half full. “One for all,” said the Preach. “We drink the eucharist.” “All are one,” said the boys. “An offering given is an offering received.” “Even to the last drop,” said the boys. “It is a gift greatly savored.” “This communion contains the milk of creation, a part of me joins a part of you. We are one as we become one.” “Amen!” “We partake of The Elixir of Creation.” The preacher raised his cup to his lips and sipped. The priest and each boy followed suit. I was mesmerized by the ritual. Taken in by the actions of the others, I sipped from my cup. It was, in its way, a beautiful thing, a religious thing. The taste was like any other malt. I knew I was tasting a potion made the combined sperm of four other boys, the preacher and the priest. I knew in a way I had taken into myself something that only a cocksucker could swallow. Whether my lips had encircled a cock or not I swallowed the results, not of one but of six others and my own. When the last drop was swallowed and each had licked his lips, they shook my hand and welcomed me into The Society of the Sensual Jesus. That afternoon I went home with Paul and took his extended cock into my mouth. Paul patted my head lovingly as I struggled with that long tube of flesh and moved my tongue around it. Though I dreaded his first throbs of ecstasty, I ignored his warning and hung on as he shot wad after wad of thick, slimy stuff into my throat. The taste was not as bad as I feared, though I found it slightly bitter. A chill went down my spine. I continued mouthing his softening cock as I nursed his cock as a suckling calf would its mother and it was good. *** One day I asked Paul. “Does Father Ted ever put his thick cock to Preacher Jim in the ritual?” “Not when we’re around but I think they take turns on their own. I think they probably fuck up a storm.” “I’d like to see Lew throw a good fuck up the priests ass, sort of a pay back.” “Wouldn’t it be nice sometime for the whole group to pump his ass?” said Paul. “I mean do a regular gang-bang on him.” “Have you ever let them do that to you?” Paul shook his head.” “Have you ever done it to either of them?“ “I did Preacher Jim. He said I was further up there than anybody ever was.” “Does it feel good, being in a man’s ass?” Paul shrugged. “It’s the only fucking I’ve ever done. It feels great.” He smiled. “Preacher Jim would let you if you gave him a blow job after.” “I don’t know if I could do that.” “You did me.” “But you’re my friend.” “Preacher Jim would be your friend.“ Paul stroked my hard-on, teasingly. He bent forward and kissed the head with a wet tongue. “His cock isn’t all that big and it’s doesn’t taste bad.” I reached under his balls and tickled his ass hole. “I like to fuck that fucking priest in his shitty, old asshole until he cries uncle.” Paul grinned. “It could happen. Who knows?” He gave my cock an extra squeeze, turned and got on the floor on his knees. “In the meantime, why don’t you drop a load up mine?” “You’re kidding. You said you’ve never done that.” Paul smiled. “I’ve been saving my virgin ass for you, old buddy. You going to give me some?” I crawled behind him and spit on my cock. “Are you sure?” Paul giggled like a girl. “Promise you’ll be gentle.” I touched my cock to the brown, starfish opening and shoved. “Fuck You.” “Yeah,” gasped Paul, “Do me. Do me good.” “You’re a tight little fucker,” I gasped. “God Damn!” moaned Paul. “Does it hurt?” “Yeah!” “Want me to stop.” “God damnit! Shut up and fuck my ass.” “You’re tighter than a girl.” “Thanks a lot.” “I meant that as a compliment.” “I bet you kissed the girl.” “I’d suck a man’s cock rather than kiss him.” “That’s all right by me.” “I’ll give you a blow job to fuck your ass anytime.” “I‘m gonna come any second,” panted Paul, but I’ll let you lick up my gravy.” “I’m shooting my load up in your bowels any second.” “Am I a good piece of ass?” gasped Paul. I rammed my rod all the way in and froze, balls pressed against his spread buttocks and throbbed shot after shot of my white stuff as far up as I could reach. “You’re the best,” I panted. *** It was several weeks after my anal encounter with Paul. Strangely, we had not repeated it though we had been to the church gym, done our rituals and some mutual blow jobs after. We had watched various members pay their tribute to Preacher Jim’s ass. This day we had finally watched Father Ted put his cucumber sized, thick prick up the plump ass of the church leader. The priest’s stroke was relentless as though he was trying to punish the solid, resilent cheeks with his cock. The Preach begged for more. He moaned and for the first time he spouted his man juice solely from the spike up his ass. Happily someone had the foresight to direct his spouting dick to the chalice and catch his offering to our ritual cocktail. I spurted my load into the chalice thinking once more that I would like to sink my cock between the hairy cheeks of the fucking priest. As he withdrew his dripping member he turned and miked the last drops onto the floor of the locker room. I thought he looked directly at me as I milked the last drop from mine and watched it mingle amongst the others offering. *** A week later the other players were going down to the showers. I felt a hand on my ass. “Jay, hold up.” The priest’s firm hand pulled me back. “Let’s try a little one on one. I think I can improve your game.” “Won’t the others be attending the ceremony?” “It can happen without us. We can make up whatever we need to make ourselves aright, later.” His smile was reassuring. He smacked me on the butt and backed up, dribbling the ball. He came at me, faked and then breezed by me and sank the bucket. Smiling, he passed the ball to me. He stuck to me like a leech. He slapped the ball, stole it and sank it before I recovered. He came back and put his arm around my neck. “You’re too tentative. You have to be decisive, switch hands and drive.” He flipped me the ball. “Try again.” We played for nearly half an hour. The others came up, waved goodnight and left. Father Ted promised preacher Jim to lock up. Only we were left. Father Ted said. “Let’s make it interesting. Ten free throws each. Who ever makes the most gets a blow job. What do you say?” I shrugged. “You know you’re going to win.” “Not necessarily.” The priest sank his first five. So did I. Of the second five I missed two. Father Ted made his first three then missed the last two. I could swear he did it on purpose. He shrugged. “I guess we both lost or to put it a nicer way, we both won. I’m afraid we’ll have to settle for a little round of sixty-nine. Are you game?” “I reckon. We ought to shower first.” “If you wish,“ said the priest, “although there is nothing wrong with the salty taste of a man’s honest sweat.” He stretched the elastic at the top of his shorts and shoved them toward the floor. He lowered his jockstrap and kicked it off. His dick was already expanding in anticipation. The stiring in my crotch told me I was as anxious as he. He pulled off the sweaty T-shirt. Except for his thick cock, he was not a prime physical speciman though he was all sinew and muscle. He moved to a padded mat in the corner and sat down to remove his shoes. We were totally naked in seconds. On my knees beside him I reached over and clasped his cock in my fingers. He did something to make it expand in my hand. Mine reacted similarly when he grasped me. “You’ve got a nice hunk of meat for a young man,” said the priest. “Except for you I’ve never touched an older man’s cock.” “Or sucked one?” “No.” “But you want to.” “I think so.” “Have you sucked with the boys?” “Only one or two.” “Which is it?” “One.” “You like doing it a lot?” “I like having it done, a lot.” “And doing it?” I shrugged. “I don’t mind it too much.” He bent and swallowed my cock to the curly hairs around my balls. I groaned. “You’ve got a nice, sweaty taste of youth. Salty and solid.” “I don’t think I can swallow you that way,” I confessed.” “Take what you can.” He lay on his side and moved so his mouth was opposite my crotch. He extended his tongue and touched the throbbing head of my glans. “I do baptize this cock in the name of the holy hard-on of Jesus.” I giggled. “And I anoint you with the holy spit of a cocksucker.” I heard his chortle as he swallowed me totally and I filled my mouth with the hard, holy meat of Father Ted’s short, thick cock. After a few swirls of his tongue, I could not help thrusting forcefully into his mouth. It felt too good to resist. Soon he was doing the same to me. With his every stroke he penetrated my throat a bit further until I was sure that what touched my lips were his pubic hairs and I was taking him as easily as he swallowed me. His hands clasping my ass, rhythmically squeezed my cheeks while I hung on his scrawny buns. His fingers crept into the crevice. One thick finger toyed at my back hole and forced entrance. I moaned as he breeched the muscular resistance and invaded my ass. I came in roman candle bursts shooting into his mouth and he did much the same in mine.