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Callings

By: notnorthern



***This story is dedicated to my real 'Francis'.

My name is Dawn. I was born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana to a very strict, religious, Catholic family. My father (who was actually southern Baptist but brought us to mass anyway) was physically and emotionally abusive to me and my older brother after our mother died when I was six. We dealt with it in our own ways (private, quiet rebellion). 

I grew up in poor to lower middle-class, all black neighborhoods and went to all or mostly black schools. I am the youngest of my mother's eight children.

I went to a very small black, Catholic school and at seven, became a student lector at the school's weekly masses. I would spend much of my free time with the nuns in their convent and just hang out with them and ask them questions about their lives. 

By the time that I reached the age of Confirmation (13), I was committed to become a Sister of the Holy Family. I came to find out that year that the reason why I was taken under the sisters' wings is because my mother had requested it and had wanted me to become a nun since I was 5!

We had always had white priests at the church parishes that I attended. They were the only white people that I actually knew (besides my pediatrician). I grew to love and revere the priests who led our parishes and found them to be fun and complete individuals. I don't think that I ever saw them as priests, totally devoted to the Church. I saw them as very wise friends who were concerned with helping people and making people's lives more spiritual and meaningful.

By the time that I reached 17, I was too far gone into theater and music to care about becoming a nun anymore. I was already into white boys because the black boys just teased me, insulted me and called me 'white girl' because I spoke 'proper', whatever that means!

I still attended mass and confession weekly and was part of my new parish's Catholic Youth Organization. This new head priest welcomed my input a lot and even trusted me enough to spend time at the rectory with some other kids. I was actually a church youth leader and participating in Sunday masses for the parish. 

You would think that my family would be proud of me but they considered it part of my 'weirdness'. I was teased by being 'the good girl' or the wannabe nun. There was no way for me to please these people. I felt very alone even though I had family all around me. 

Then one Sunday, things changed. That was when I met Francis. One of the most beautiful men that I have met, inwardly and outwardly. He was an angel.

I first met him on the alter preparing for services. I was going to prepare my reader's seat on the alter and tease the altar boys when I saw him. I only saw his back first, as he was working the other side. When he saw me at my seat, he greeted me with a sweet, warm smile. He had such a light in him! 

I knew that he was Italian immediately because of the great big Roman nose and slightly olive skin. He wasn't very tall at 5' 7". I could also tell that he worked out from his muscular arms. I was to find out later that he was 26, from Boston, a Scorpio and close to ordination. He would be with the parish until next June.

He came over to shake my hand and I saw his eyes- sapphire blue, large and warm. They were amazing! "My name is Francis Contadino. You can just call me Francis or Frankie, if you'd like." He introduced himself, " You must be Dawn. I have heard so many good things about you from Father Richards and the deacons." 

I smiled big and returned his greeting, "Hi! Yeah, I'm Dawn Landrieu. It's good to see you. I hope that you can add some life into these services here."

He nodded his head slowly and said, "I'll see what I can do about that...yeah." Then he flashed that super smile again and I thought that I would just melt right there!

I had just turned 18 at the time. Stood 5'2 1/2", was 24 pounds overweight but it was distributed well, I had a small waist and as always put nicely together by my stepmother. I usually wore a uniform because of school but that kilt never went above my knees- even when I sat (Three fingers below the knees, please)!

I wore square, grey, wire frames and had straight black hair that hang past my shoulders. I removed the glasses as often as I could, especially around young men. Especially when I would see Francis the future priest.

I was very much a lady and was raised to be a proper New Orleans Creole girl (even with my caramel skin and not 'good' hair that I got from my 'Darkie' father. My mother was deep, French Creole and my stepmother, Spanish Creole, so I really had no choice in the matter). I was always a pretty girl but had self-esteem issues (No wonder). I hated my looks. I was a much more shy person then. Some people in my family reminded me constantly about how not-so-pretty they thought I was. I knew they were wrong but it hurt all the same.

Anyway, that was our first meeting. After that Sunday, Francis and I became fast friends. We would spend a lot of time on projects and I would bring baked goodies to the rectory. We would also go in a group to other churches, shopping, school supply buying, etc. We would have very deep and long discussions about religion, politics and food (with others around, of course). We were becoming good friends. 

I knew that something else was there, too. It wasn't blatant but I just knew. Call it woman's intuition or what have you. I could tell by his generous compliments on my clothes, grades, perfume, etc. I knew by the way he avoided touching me at all costs besides shaking my hand and that was always a quick exercise, with a finger tracing my palm. I could also tell by the way he would defend me when I was being teased by the boys. He seemed to take it more personally than I did.

How I really could tell was by his excitement when he heard my steps coming to the rectory door. He would answer like a lonely pup waiting for his master. I never really had to ring the bell if he was there. If I made it to the door and had to ring, I knew that he wasn't home or at least not downstairs.

Now, I enjoyed "The Thornbirds", but I didn't know if I was ready to go through what Maggie went through to get her man, so I just tried very hard to ignore what was obviously happening between us. 

That March, seven months after we'd met, Francis planned a nice 'Accepted into you first choice of college party' for me. He had invited my parish friends, some school friends of mine and my favorite cousins. We had it in the kitchen and outdoors since spring is always in New Orleans early. Father Richards said that it was a reward for all that I did for the parish...and besides we were supposed to have a meeting there anyway! 

I also knew that he understood that my father was not happy to see me going out of state for school. He did not plan on even giving me the bus fare to go off to college! That's why Francis really wanted to do the party.

He'd outdone himself and seemed to take pride in watching me have a good time and be queen for a day. He had written me some innocent poems disguised as a card that I read later and saved. It was one of the best parties that I've ever had. 

Then about a month later, after Easter, I went to the rectory to pick up some Tupperware and fliers for the parish fair. I wore my short (for me, it was), light yellow, jumper dress, a white baby-tee, white socks that covered my knees, and my clean, white Keds (remember them?). 

Francis came to the door after hearing me give my familiar voice clearing cough. I was halfway to the door and he just stood there and waited with a big smile. He told me that Father Richards had gone to a family wedding in another town. 

I figured that was why the meeting was cancelled and I also wanted to see him that day because I knew that he would be alone. I had planned this for weeks and figured that there will be no harm in trying to see him alone.

He stood at the door in black jeans, an old Boston College T-shirt, grey socks and black Birkenstocks. I said politely, "Oh, I didn't know that Francis! Well, since I'm here, could you let me have my Tupperware back? Oh, and how about getting some fliers for me to distribute?"

His smile melted and he could sense me not being honest. He asked me into the den and had me take a seat on the couch. He sat next to me and said, "Dawn, I know that you knew that there was no meeting today and you don't have to paste up those fliers, so why are you really here? Do you need some counseling. Father Richards isn't here but I can help you. I'm almost a priest!" He grinned.

I didn't know what to say. I turned and looked at him and stammered, "I guess that I do need counseling." I began with a lump in my throat, "There is a friend of mine whom I really think is special. Very, very special. I feel very close to him and he's my best friend! I think that...well...I think that he feels close to me, too but he can't, I think. I mean...he can't be...he can't...he can't feel anything for me because...because...he's... um...because he's...uh...um...he's..."

"...Going to become a priest?" He finished for me. I started crying on the spot. I felt so defeated and I wanted to crawl into a dark hole. He got me! So much for being a good girl. So much for trying to be slick.

Francis rubbed my back, trying to sooth me with his words. "It's alright, Dawn. You don't have to be embarrassed. These things happen sometimes..." He trailed off. I looked up at him, waiting for him to finish.

He continued, "It's really my fault that this is happening, you know. I think that I led you on. Not to be mean or anything. I just...See, Dawn, I really like you... and think that you are a very special young woman. Any guy who would get you to be his would be a really lucky man. You have to know that about yourself. You're beautiful! You're golden! If I wasn't called to be a priest..."

He halted and said to forget it but I wanted him to finish his thought. 

Finally, he looked down to the floor and then into my eyes and said softly, "If I didn't feel that I was being called...I would be with you. I care about you. I've known you for over seven months and I feel that we've known each other for so much longer. I feel that we know each other so well. That's why you came and tried this today. You knew that I wouldn't mind. I'm a little ashamed to say this but it's hard for me to not think about you every day, Dawn! I wonder if you're alright. I wonder if you are safe- in that house with your father who beats you like you're his property! You deserve someone who can take you away from that and show you what real love is...what tenderness is. I wish...I wish I could be the one to do that. "

I couldn't believe my ears! He was admitting this to me! His honesty was overwhelming. We were quiet for a while.

I looked down and said to him, "You treat me like a real person, Francis. I'm so used to being treated like a freak or some social misfit. You like me for me and it's great that I can be myself with you. You are my best friend, Frankie. We have something pretty cool going on here." 

I continued, "So...you should understand how and why it hurts me to see you become a priest. I wish that you wouldn't do it, Frankie!"

We both sat there for another one minute silence. I broke it, "Thank you for being honest about your feelings and telling me that you worry about me. You're so sweet and care about me so much, Francis!" 

I added, "I do want to know, if you don't mind me asking, why do you like me? I told you why I like you so it's just fair..."

"...I like everything about you, Dawn!" He interrupted, "Your smile, your lovely face, your dimples, your caramel skin, your walk, your voice, your mind, the way you sing, your grades, the way that you take care of yourself and handle yourself, how happy you get around kids and how sweet you are with babies...everything."

I wanted to throw him down on that couch and give him the lay that he deserved but that was CRAZY thinking!

We sat there quietly for a few moments because I didn't know what to say to that! Francis looked at me for some response but I was too shocked and overcome with affection. 

He finally spoke up, "Father won't be here until 11 tonight. It's only 10:30 in the morning. Now, I do have to assist with 6:30 p.m. communion service so we have until 5 or so. Would you mind staying for a while and keeping me company? I mean...can you?"

I was elated over the request! I answered, "Of course I can stay! I have free reign over what I do on the weekends after I do my chores. What do you want to do? Let me make you lunch?"

"That would be fantastic but let me cook for you, for a change! It's about time that you get to have authentic Italian food! I'm making fresh pasta for lunch!"

We had a fabulous late morning just talking and making fun of each other's twisted lives. By the time we finished our spaghetti Bolognase, garlic bread and shared a bowl of homemade spumoni, it was 1:30! 

During that time, I came to find out that Francis had been with a good amount of women before he went into the Seminary and that he had a thing for black girls, especially! 

He said the reason why he digs us so much is because black girls are taboo in the circles he grew up in. He would have black female friends and his mother would request for him not to bring them to the house. He's a Scorpio and taboo just means go for it' to those sexy folks. His mother had no idea that not allowing his black female friends in the house meant that he had to go to their house and if their parents weren't home and she was willing...

He never really went against his parents wishes but loving on the black girls was like a quiet rebellion that he thoroughly enjoyed. He admitted that he always loved the hips and round asses of black girls. The smell of a sweaty, dusky jewel in the heat of passion drove him wild! 

He came from a wealthy, Italian Catholic family in Boston. He was an altar boy from age 8 until he finished St. Stanislaus High School for Boys. Early on, he was entertaining the idea of becoming a priest. His family loved the idea and had him take classical voice lessons. 

The Contandino family wanted their son to reach cardinal one day and expected a lot from him. He entered Boston College at 17 to study vocal music. He wanted to become an opera singer and Juilliard had accepted him into their MFA program but his family refused, saying that he studied voice for the Church, not for the stage. He would never think of breaking their hearts, so he entered the seminary. 

I told him how this enraged me. I said, "Why can't you live you life for yourself, Francis? Don't let them send you down a path that keeps you away from your true calling! I've heard you sing. You belong on stage at the Met!" 

Francis responded, "It's fine for me, Dawn. Either way, I am doing what I want. I do feel that I am being called into the priesthood, I teach music to you kids and it fills me. I get to sing all of the time. I think that my current audience is even more appreciative than they would be if they heard me on stage at the Met! Do you understand?" 

"I guess." I said, feeling defeated once again. "But you're not a priest now, right?" Oops! I wanted to put my foot in my mouth for that one.

"Yeah...but we both know this. Why do you ask that, Dawn?" He asked with suspicion.

I answered, "Well, I was just thinking that maybe we can hold hands and cuddle a little. That's not a sin. Right?" I was pushing him. Did I have room for both feet to go in my big mouth?!

He looked at me with a growing fire in his eyes and said, "Come on, Dawn? Please! If you want me then tell me. Don't beat around the bush! I told you how I feel and I mean that! You're right, I'm not a priest yet. What? Are you asking me if I want to be with you? If so, just ask me, Dawn. I'll be honest with you."

I had never seen him so rattled but I understood why this was making him so emotional. I wanted to hold him in my arms so he could feel better. I was still unsure about where this was going, so I didn't dare touch him.

Then he and his words cooled and he smiled and asked, "Tell me, Dawn. Has anyone ever made love to you before?"

I was floored! Absolutely floored! What was this guy asking me?! OOOOH, but it was really sexy the way he said it! I answered his question, "I guess, yeah. I mean, I'm not a virgin."

He shook his head while he walked slowly towards me, "No, no, no. I mean more than just sex. I care for you deeply, see. You're not a 'trick' to me. So I would be making love to you. I guess that's what I mean. I don't think that the guys that you've been with care about you like this and...." 

He stopped just a foot away in front of me and asked, "Am I scaring you? Please let me know if I am taking this too far, please? Oh God! What am I doing?!"

He stood there in a little daze looking at the floor. I knew that the wheels were turning super fast in there. I had to bring him back to what was happening now.

I took his hand in mine and asked him to hold me. He looked up, came closer and stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. I was feeling a little nervous because I knew what was to happen soon. I was to go to his room and have my fantasies come true. I was to have this lovely, male, Italian fox show me how he felt for me in the most intimate way. It just seemed like a strange and unplanned blessing. 

I focused on his question. "No. You're not scaring me. I trust you too much for that. Are you feeling bad about this? I don't want any guilt to follow you after any of this."

He responded, "No. Not at all! I'm sorry that I lapsed like that before. I was just working things out in my head. I've been celibate this entire time in seminary. I've had so much control. But now...now, this feels so right...I don't understand! Come here, Angel." He held me in his strong, healing arms and rubbed my back with both hands. I felt so secure and safe in his arms. His hands started going lower. 

He said, "You've grown into such a gorgeous sunflower, Dawn! Such a truly remarkable young woman. I've wanted to touch you like this for so long! I even fantasize about you. I try to stop, then I get a boner and..." We both laughed a little nervously and gazed into each other's eyes.

Suddenly, he pulled away and said, "We should go up to my room. Take all of your things. The deacon doing the Communion Service will come here later but he won't go past the foyer. My room is on the third floor. Let's go!"

He playfully pulled my hand and we ran upstairs with all my things in tow. I was bubbling with excitement and feeling very naughty! We got to the top floor and Francis opened his bedroom door.

It was simple. A Full sized bed with no headboard, a nightstand with a lamp, a chest of drawers and a cedar trunk. The crucifix was over his bed.

He said, "Oh! I'll take that off for now." He winked at me before he went to remove the wooden statuette of a twisted Jesus. 

Before he put the crucifix into his nightstand's top drawer, he spoke to it, "When can we make celibacy in the priesthood optional?" 

After I recovered from the laughing fit that we had, I went to the bathroom to take a shower. I removed all of my clothing and stepped into the french, footed bathtub. I was in for about three minutes before I saw the curtain being pulled. Francis stood there completely naked looking at my wet, slightly chubby, but curvy brown body. He smiled at what he saw and offered to help me finish washing.

He came in and held my hips and rubbed my ass slowly with his hands. This was to be our first kiss. He pulled me to him by the hips and held me. Then he pulled his head back, looked into my eyes and ran a finger over my lips. 

Then he put his finger in my mouth and I sucked on it. He brushed my long black hair from my face with one hand and cupped my chin with the other. Then he leaned and touched his lips with mine. He kissed me like that two more times before he gently placed his tongue into my mouth. I opened mine to let him in and our tongues caressed each other, warmly. 


Callings



He was an excellent kisser and that kiss is still on the top of my list! He had gotten hard from it and I was feeling quite proud of myself.

After kissing for a minute or so, I let him soap me down with an unscented creamy wash. His hands travelled all over my body. Then he washed my back and ass with the same attention. I was in heaven rubbing on his muscular body. He was soft and not much fat to be seen except for his round Italian butt. I squeezed that ass like it was Charmin's!

He turned me to face him and as he cupped one hand on my right breast, he placed his fingers gently in my nappy dugout and began stroking me slowly. I gasped when he started squeezing my clit. He commented, "Your clit is big, girl! Like a tiny dick! That's very cool. Oh, I should warn you. I start speaking pretty dirty when I'm sexed up." 

I couldn't help but laugh in shock at the language that he was using! I had heard him say 'damn' and 'bastard' but not those rough words! I had to act like a grown up and stop giggling. 

He shut me up by placing a finger on my clit and stroking it, stoking the fire within me. I had only read about this stuff in my brother's Penthouse Letters, now it was happening to me! 

I was getting very wet and started thinking about the orgasm thing. All the women's magazines talked about them but what was it really like? What would it be like for me, anyway? While Francis was feeling up my pussy, I asked him, "I've never had an orgasm before, Frankie. Could you show me how to get one?"

You could imagine the look on his face and in his eyes as he realized he had an orgasm virgin on his hand! He chuckled, "You'll know how it feels by the time we finish. Don't you worry, baby."

He removed his hand from my wet pussy and pulled me close to him. I felt his rock hard, thick, Italian sausage. He looked to be about 7 inches and cut but I didn't really give a damn! It felt so good being in his arms like that. I did want him to start schooling my black ass soon, though!

Francis turned off the shower and wiped us both dry. We ran back to his room and I threw myself on the bed, giggling uncontrollably. He said to me as he crawled up to be on top of me, "I've wanted you for so long, Dawn. We may not have this chance again, so we should really relish this, o.k. Let me eat your pussy now, baby?"

I had it done to me before but something told me this time was going to be very different! I moaned an affirmative and when his tongue touched my pussy hole, I felt a shock go through me and I stiffened. Then I relaxed and focused on his wet black hair with my fingers. He was licking and sucking and poking and nibbling. Then he started tongue fucking me while holding my ass up with his hands! 

I was watching the whole thing. I was truly enjoying myself and began to let go. Suddenly, I felt a strong flutter-like feeling and released some fluid. I thought that I was pissing in his mouth, so I pulled away. He pulled me back gently and said that it was o.k. and that was happening because I was enjoying it. Fuck yeah, I was!

"I'll lick it all from you, honey. Don't hold back. Just relax and concentrate on what my mouth and my tongue are making you feel." He said to me. I did feel a bit like I was in sex school, so I'd better be a good student and follow instructions!

I asked in a breathy voice, "Did I have an orgasm?"

"Not yet, girl. Be patient!" He laughed and continued, "It looks like you're a squirter. Mmmmm...that's so hot, baby! When you play with yourself, it must be really sticky and fun, huh? It also makes me and most men, very excited. It also means that when you cum, I can tell. You're very lucky. There are women who would pay to be able to squirt like you do." 

His words relaxed me completely and I surrendered to him. I started bucking my hips and he got his face all in my crotch, squeezing and trapping his head in there. I started squirting again and then he began licking my ass! That was interesting. I had always considered the ass off limits but, I was with a learned man. 

Then he put a thumb in my ass while he tongue fucked my pussy. I felt like I was going to explode with pleasure. Which is what I did! 

The first orgasm of my life was shooting out of me onto this beautiful man's soft tongue! I realized that I was lifting myself off the bed high but his mouth never left my pussy, neither did his finger leave my ass hole.

The pulsing and panting slowly died away and Francis crawled up to kiss me. His mouth had my juices on it and in it. I tasted like...nothing much. It was the shower we figured, but it still had a tiny bit of 'me' smell to it. I found that I enjoyed kissing right after being eaten out.

As he lay over me kissing me, I could feel his cock stirring on my inner thigh. This kissing and rubbing and holding was making me ready again but I wanted to suck his dick...badly. I had never done it before but for Francis, I would at least try. 

As if he read my mind Francis asked, "I really want to fuck your tits. Have you ever had that done? Is it alright, with you?"

I told him that it was fine and he continued, "There's a way that I like to do this. Stay on your back and I'll straddle your chest. Then I'll fuck your titties and you suck on my head when I reach your mouth. You understand?"

I told him that I did and he placed a pillow under my head. Then he straddled over my chest but stopped to tell me, "I haven't been with a woman for nearly five years. This might not last too long. That's alright because it means that I can be inside of you longer." With that he started feverishly smacking my breasts with his cock and I jerked him with my hand. It looked like it was swelling- all purple, pink and veiny. I loved the way it looked.

When he was as hard as he wanted to be, he told me to hold my breasts together and he rammed his dick into the canal that it made for him. My tits were all sweaty, so he had a slick time at it. He was holding on to the wall in front of him (Thank goodness he took down that crucifix!) and was panting and groaning as he fucked my brown, d-cup titties. 

This was a entire different side of him that I knew no one in this town knew about. I knew that his rhythm with my breasts was similar to the way it would be with him in me. He was watching how his thick dick was sliding up and down between my heavy breasts and how my soft, full, hungry lips suckled his head. He really did taste very nice to me. This whole erotic scene was just too hot! I suddenly wished that I was watching it! (Foreshadowing to my love affair with porn and ceiling mirrors.)

Francis was right, it didn't last very long. After three minutes of him stroking my chest with his cock, he sped up a little and came on my lips. It dripped onto my chin and down to my neck. He smiled and touched my face as he knelt over me. He said to me, "That was so hot, Dawn! I think I saw stars! Let me help you."

He cleaned up my face with a tissue and asked me how it was for me. I told him that of course I had never done that before and that I will try to remember it for the future. It had gotten me wet and my pussy was alive and kicking again.

He put me on my belly and massaged me. I could feel his dick bopping up and down waiting for an opportunity to get really hard again. I flipped over, sat up and started stroking his cock. He watched my hands and then looked up at me and seemed to be searching my eyes.

"Ahhhhh...," He said as I stroked him with both hands, "I think that it's time for me to be inside of you. You don't know how much I want to be make love to you, baby. Let me put my cock in your pussy, baby."

I laid in the middle of the bed and lay on top of the towels that he had laid there for us. I was aching to have him inside of me. He stopped.

Francis said, "I don't have any condoms! I always use condoms. Never thought I'd need them again, ya know."

"I've used condoms each of my 7 times, Francis. Don't worry." I responded truthfully, "Ms. Evelyn (my stepmother) put me on The Pill 8 months ago, too. Don't tell my daddy, o.k.?" I pleaded.

He smiled, kissed my face and laid me on my stomach and started grinding onto my ass. He grabbed one tit with one hand and played with my pussy with the other. I was begging him to fuck me while we were on our sides. I actually said the 'F' word during sex! 

That must have gotten him off, because he started licking my ears and said, "You want me to fuck you, honey? Huh? Naw! I said that I was going to make love to you. Remember?"

Then he became very Italian! He let me go and let me lay there and stroked my face. He seemed to be soaking in every feature on me that he had in his view. Then he started whispering to himself in quick Italian. I didn't understand anything until he got to this part, "La Mia ragazza dolce! You are so beautiful to me."

That did it! I wrestled with him to get inside of me. After a while, he pinned me down and started sucking my breasts. He was tormenting me! I opened my legs wide for him. "Take me!" I was hissing, "Just take me!"

He stopped sucking and grabbed his hard cock and ran his head all over my pussy. Then he put his head in the entrance. I was too tight. He guided it in slowly and I was feeling him stretch me. I was wet enough, and it finally got halfway in. He started to get in more as I opened my legs wider for him.

I felt very filled but it didn't hurt me. He started moving up and down watching his cock go in and out of me. I watched his face because he would look up from the show to see how I was doing. I couldn't believe the feelings I was having! 

Then he started thrusting slowly in and out of me. I held him in my arms as he humped me, running my hands down his back and pushing his ass closer so he could be inside of me more. He said, "Oh, God...being inside of you, dawn...Oh God you feel so good...I love being inside of your pussy, baby...You feel so good... Oh...!"

I loved that he was being verbal and it was really bringing up my passion. I had read erotica where people talked to each other and asked sexy questions or made sexy announcements but I was afraid to. I wanted to at least try with him. He wouldn't care if I sounded dumb.

I said, "You like the way my pussy feels, Frankie? Huh? You like being inside of my pussy? I like the way your cock feels inside of me, baby. It feels so damn good...it really does!"

He loved it and actually answered by growling, "Yeah..."! He sucked on my shoulder and started fucking me harder. I met his thrusts with my own and it was like we were doing a rough, love dance. My sweet, hot Francis!

Then, he sat us up, and made me straddle his cock. Since we were close in height, I was nearly face to face with him. This really got me going and I rode him the best I could. My movements were by instinct with him. This guy was absolutely my 'sexual soul mate'! 

He was watching everything that was going on between our legs. It was intense for him, I could tell. We sucked on each other's shoulders and kissed deeply. As he said the following, each word was pronounced with a distinct and rough thrust into my stuffed and pulsing cunt, "You-feel-so-fuckin'-good-girl! Ooh-fuck-me, Dawn!" 

I was obedient and rode him a little harder! I was squirting again and knew that I was going to cum a second time. I rode him slow and deep with all of his cock in my pussy. I had both arms around his neck and looked deep into his eyes and started sucking on his index finger. That made him pump me faster underneath. 

We listened to the slopping sounds that were happening between our legs. We heard my sweaty ass slapping against his juice-soaked thighs. It was beautiful! I started nibbling his lips and pulling them. I was ready to cum!

I bucked and ground my pussy all over his cock so I could cum in his lap. He started kissing my neck and when I leaned back, he started sucking my tits. I lost it! I came so hard that I felt like I was a fountain! It felt sooooo good! 

I made a mess on his towels but that's what they were there for. He laid me on my back and immediately started eating my ass again! He was humming this time and said to me, "I love eating your black ass, girl!" 

When he was done, I was sopping wet and he was hard again, he lifted his face from between my ass cheeks. Then he spread my pussy lips with two fingers and entered me with a soft thrust. I was very happy to welcome him back inside.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and was wide open for him. He was pinning me down with entwined arms. I loved the feeling that I was being restricted with my movement, yet lovingly enveloped at the same time. 

I felt like a primal sex being. I was being taken! As he pumped and penetrated me, he licked and sucked on my face and neck. Nothing was on my mind except for his body fucking mine. 

I whispered to him, "Cum in me! I want you to come in me, baby! Oh,God...please...yeah...oh...I...Uhgh...yeah...fuck me...Oh!!!" I began cumming again, my juices rising to soak our bellies! Francis followed immediately.

"I'm gonna cum in you, baby! UNGH! Oh God! Take it all, baby! You like that, shit? Yeah? Yeah? Aw, fuck! You're so fucking hot...so fucking hot...AHHHH...,Ahhhhh, ahhhhhhh...oh...fuck...TAKE IT!" He said into my ear as he pumped me roughly and shot his seed deep inside of my waiting pussy. 

I felt the warmth of his cum coating the walls of my vagina. We were cumming together and I remember wanting to eat his face during that exact moment. He held me down and sucked on my tongue as we let the fire go through us and our fluids intermingled inside of my sopping and tired cunt.

We lay like that until we stopped shaking and our breathing regulated. He pulled out of me and we watched his jism flow outside of me, he came so much! Then he rubbed his cum all over my pussy and very gently stroked my worn-out slit, as we kissed with loud smacks and licks.

He looked at the clock and told me that it was 4 o'clock. We got up, cleaned, checked for sex smells and soaked the towels in the tub so the cleaning lady would not get suspicious come Monday morning. By the time it was 5 o'clock, everything was finished. Then he put the crucifix back on the wall over his bed.

We showered quickly and I helped him dress. It was odd watching him put on his black shirt and slacks. He was the priesthood candidate again and I felt a bit removed from him suddenly.

He took me in his arms, sensing my neglect, and held me for a long time. We both cried because we were extremely happy and extremely sad simultaneously. It was like making love just made the pain worse but easier to deal with.

He pulled back and looked at me with those big, twilight blue eyes. He said, "Hey! Let's stop this crying stuff. I have until June before I go. We still have some real time to spend with each other."

"Can we still make love?" I asked stroking his handsome, young face. 

He thought for a while as we searched each other's eyes. He responded, "If ever you feel the need for me to be with you, then let me know. If I am available, then we can meet somewhere. I don't want to do this in the rectory again. Besides, honey, I love you more than you may know. Even after I'm ordained I will still love you."

I took a chance, "I love you, Francis, very much! Your so beautiful! So...Umm...Does that mean that I can come to you while you're a priest?"

He responded with a really big grin, "You would love that wouldn't you! My Dawn, go out and enjoy your life! I'll go out and be the priest. If you feel the same about me in ten years, then check up on me... See what's up with me."

He gave me a soft kiss and let me out the front door and I walked down the block. No one was around when I came in, so we felt that I didn't have to hide. I went home and thought of him the entire night. 

My father kept wanting to know where I was and my stepmother told him to not bother me. She came to me later in the evening to ask me if it was a white boy that I was with. I retorted, "Ms. Evelyn, he's not just any white boy. He's fine and pure Italian!" We giggled like two southern belles.

We got together five more times in those months before his ordination at a small French Quarter inn. He taught me how to suck cock and had me get to know my body better. It would only be for no more than 3 hours at a time but I would have the room all day and night for myself afterwards. I would just think, read porn and masturbate during those alone times.

I went to his ordination. To watch him lay there face down on the ground and give his life to God made me very proud of him and I was in awe. He wasn't weak for some young, black pussy like some other men would've been. He had resolve! He was dedicated to his calling. He was so happy and I felt only joy for him.

I went to congratulate him at the reception that the archdiocese gave for the ordination. He was smashing in his new white collar and his priestly glow. He had written me a long letter and told me not to open it until the day he was to go back to Boston (to his new parish).

I was holding back the tears very well until we found a quiet corner to have a tiny private chat. I told him how proud I was of him and how I admired him even more now. I had to let go of the tears and he held me. People saw and heard and just chuckled at the tender situation they were witnessing.

When I looked up and saw those people going 'Awww... how sweet', it just made me cry harder. Then he rubbed my back to sooth me. Only we knew why this goodbye was actually bittersweet. I looked up to see his mother staring at me severely. I wouldn't want to be her daughter anyway!

The day he had to go was two weeks after his ordination. He called me to say a final goodbye. I told him that I had kept my promise and had not read his letter yet. He instructed me to do so after he got off the phone just so he could take the knowledge of me reading it with him on the jet.

I picked up the letter that was under my pillow. It was my first summer as an adult but I just felt like a sad, lonely child. Then I opened it and my heart leaped at what I saw. In a separate, smaller envelope there were a few wallet-sized photos of him with parish members, kids in the CYO at various church events. There was also one with just me and him before we became intimate and one after. So innocent we looked together in both. 

I put them back in and unfolded the pages of the letter. This is how it began:

"My darling Dawn,

You must know that I am writing this letter to you as a man, not a priest. I know that you will keep this letter private. I trust you. Also, enclosed is my new address, so please write me if you ever feel the need. 

The times that we were together, making love and exploring each other's minds, bodies and hearts were the best times of my life. Believe that, my Dawn. I gave you a part of me that no woman ever 'got' but you didn't just get it- you understood it, you knew it.

It's the duality of the spiritual and the sensual. You have it, too. It's alluring and very appropriate. Don't let anyone tell you that you can't be both a spiritual person and a passionate, sexual one. They are wrong and probably way too uptight. 

You also know that you don't need sex from someone else to give you sexual pleasure. Remember what I taught you in our hotel room about 'self-love'? Don't EVER give it up. I won't...and I will think of you each and every time I choose to 'love myself'. 

If I had not accepted my calling, I would hope for you to be my fiance´ by the end of the summer. You at NYU and me at Juilliard. I would be marrying you after you finished. The stunning, strong black actress and her Italian, opera-singing husband. That's what I thought about until the day of my ordination, Dawn. You and me- together. I would raise a family with you and watch you nurture my children, my family. You are a queen to me.




Callings



Of course, I accepted this calling because that is what it is- My calling from God. I may even find out some years down the line that I cannot carry this burden any longer. I doubt it, but if I do, it's safe to know that I will have someone who will not judge me and who will not banish me. Your love is important to me. Your respect and friendship, just as much. That's another reason why you should check on me in 10 years.

If celibacy does become optional in our lifetimes, well, I would hope that you would know what to do!

At the end of this letter, I have some advice for you and some words of wisdom. Before that, I have written some erotic poetry for you! Oh, don't be surprised, Dawn. I told you that I was writing this letter to you as a man."