Feature Writer: thickbutterfly
Feature Title: HOLY FATHER 1
Published: 12.11.2021
Story Codes: Religious Themes, Gay
Synopsis: For Marcus, questioning leads to religion leads to ecstasy
Holy Father 1
I looked in the mirror as I adjusted the knot of my tie. My light brown eyes and scruffy, college-kid beard flashed back at me. I couldn’t believe my life had really reached this point– getting ready for church on a Sunday morning? Voluntarily? I’d never have imagined it back in high school.
But recently I had been feeling… confused. About my sexuality, if I was being honest, though I could barely admit it to myself. Religion seemed like the answer, a way to nip things in the bud and get back on the right path.
And I’d kind of been looking forward to going to church. It was a quiet, contemplative way to spend the morning, and the idea of hearing a thought-provoking sermon was appealing.
Intellectually I knew that religion was for chumps, but sometimes it’s nice to be a chump.
I was already wearing a tie, so all I had to do was throw on a blazer and I was set. The blazer was a little warm for the early May morning, but it felt good to look nice. I was a little concerned that it made me look younger than my 19 years, but I figured I would try to dress up a little while I was at it.
I made it out of my dorm room and jogged down the stairs before I had a chance to change my mind. I was going to church. For the first time in my life, I was a little excited about it.
I arrived at the church a few minutes early. It was a small parish on the edge of town, and the building was more of a sanctuary than a church. I had to walk down a few steps to get inside. There was a small podium and a large crucifix at the back of the room. On the walls were the standard tacky and useless religious posters and paintings. The whole room was dim and quiet and smelled like cinnamon and pine.
I was still early, and the place was empty. I took a seat on one of the pews and waited for the mass to start.
Not long after, I heard the faint sound of footsteps. I turned to see a young man coming down the stairs. He was wearing a black cassock with a purple stole around his neck.
I watched him get closer. He was very handsome, with dark hair and deep, brooding eyes. Everything about him was intense, from his intense gaze to his intense body. His shoulders were broad, his waist trim, his hair short and messy.
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked around, a benign smile on his face. He was a little older than me, maybe not more than a few years, but there was no doubt that he was in charge. His entire demeanor was confident and imposing.
“Good morning!” he called out. “Welcome to Mass!”
I smiled as he approached. He was wearing a thin gold chain around his neck, with a tiny cross hanging from it.
“Thank you,” I said with a little bow of my head. “I hope I’m not too early.”
“Not at all,” he said. “You’re a little early, but I’m glad you’re here. What’s your name?”
“My name is… Marcus.”
“Marcus?” the priest said.
“Yes, sir.” I looked at him, suddenly feeling nervous. His eyes were unnerving.
“I’m Father Brennan,” he said. “It’s very nice to meet you, Marcus.”
He held out his hand, and I shook it. It was strong, but his grip wasn’t too tight. He was in control, but in a way that was gentle and kind. I liked that about him.
“So, Marcus,” he said. “You’re new to church?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied. “But I’ve been meaning to get to church more than ever lately. I… uh… I think I’m dealing with some things.”
“I understand,” Father Brennan said. “I’m here to help in any way I can.”
“Well, I don’t know if you can or not,” I said, laughing nervously.
“If you need someone to talk to, I’m here,” he said.
“I… I don’t think I want to talk about it,” I said.
Father Brennan smiled and shrugged.
“That’s fine,” he said. “But I’m sitting right there by the podium, and this is my church. If you need anything, just let me know.”
There was a pause as we looked at each other for a moment.
“Alright,” I said.
“Good.” He smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He turned around and walked back to the podium, sitting on one of the stools that were behind it. He picked up his bible and began to read. It was a good sign that he was so engrossed in the book. It showed that he was interested in the service more than in making small talk or trying to get me to open up.
I looked at him for a moment more, then I turned back towards the front of the room. I felt a little more confident now that the handsome priest was around. I was here for a reason, and I wanted to hear what he had to say.
I didn’t have to wait long before the doors of the church opened. A few more parishioners walked into the room, all of them dressed up in their Sunday finest. I turned around to look at them, but they all were too busy greeting Father Brennan to notice me.
When the door was finally closed, everyone turned to face the front of the sanctuary. Father Brennan cleared his throat and began to speak.
“Good morning, brothers and sisters,” he said. “Today, we are learning more about God’s word. We are studying the book of John. For those of you who are new, welcome to Christ Tabernacle. It’s a pleasure to have you here with us today. Let us pray.”
I knelt down and crossed myself. I couldn’t help but notice that the priest’s cassock made him look like he had a huge bulge running down the length of his leg.
I kept my eyes on the floor as the priest began the prayers. There was something about his voice that was oddly soothing, and I could feel the stress leaving my body as it entered his.
After the prayer, Father Brennan began to preach. The words were like music, like a song I’d never heard before. I’d always heard sermons, but this was different. He spoke directly to me, and I felt that he was speaking directly to me.
“John’s gospel tells us that Jesus was God’s perfect love made flesh,” he said. “And the only reason that Jesus could be God’s perfect love was because he was born of God’s perfect love. God’s love cannot be divided. It is infinite. And so, if Jesus was born of God’s perfect love, it means that he was not born of a mere man. He was also born of a woman.
“We tend to think that the birth of Jesus to Mary is an insignificant part of the gospel,” he continued. “After all, it is not a story of sex and seduction. It’s just a story of a mother and a son. But there is something very ancient and very powerful in this story. There is a kind of magic in this story.”
I leaned forward and listened closely. I was finding it difficult to keep my eyes off the bulge in the priest’s cassock. I looked at it, and I felt like I didn’t want to look away.
“The story of the birth of Jesus is not a story about a man and a woman,” Father Brennan said. “It is the story of a man and a goddess. What we know as the birth of Jesus was really the birth of Jehovah to a woman named Mary. Jesus was not a man. Jesus was a god, and he was born of a woman, by a goddess.”
The congregation nodded as he spoke. I stared at the priest as he lectured, as his eyes were ablaze with a heavenly fire. He was a prophet, a holy man, a messenger from the divine.
“God came to earth as a man, and that is because we are nothing but men,” Father Brennan said. “God is perfect, and so the only way that we could ever know God is if God were to come to us in human form. But when God came to us in human form, it was not an equal exchange. There was still a difference in power and status. God was still in control. God was still in charge.
“This is an important and often overlooked fact,” he continued. “When God came to earth in human form, we were in no way equal to him. He was an infinitely powerful god. We were little more than ants. In any true sense of the word, Jesus was never a man. He was always a god, and he has been a god for thousands of years before coming to the Earth. Only in human form was he one of us. So, when we stand in front of Jesus, we are not standing in front of a man, but a god. It is only right that we kneel.”
Father Brennan started to kneel, and everyone in the congregation followed suit. I was kneeling, too.
“We are not equal to our savior,” he said. “We are not equal to God. We are nothing more than ants in the magnificence of the universe. We are nothing but dirt in the eyes of God. And so, it is right that we kneel. For the only thing that we can do is lie prostrate before the divine. For the only thing that we can do is fall prostrate before the king. For the only thing that we can do is fall prostrate before god.”
Everyone started to fall to the floor, and it didn’t take me long to do the same. I felt something building inside of me, something that was bigger than me, something that was bigger than everything.
I was kneeling towards the front of the sanctuary, and I looked up at the priest. He was holding his bible up in front of him like a shield in front of a warrior. He was staring down the congregation, and he almost looked like he was in a trance.
Father Brennan closed his eyes tightly, and he began to recite the Lord’s Prayer in Aramaic. I didn’t know what he was doing, but I just wanted to lie there on the floor and listen to him speak. I could feel myself slipping into a trance, into a waking dream.
I could feel the slightest bit of drool coming out of my mouth. It was running down my cheek towards the floor, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be there with Father Brennan. I wanted to be with him forever.
“Our Father in heaven,” he said, reciting the prayer in Aramaic. “Holy is your name. Your kingdom comes. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
The words were like magic, like a spell, like a fairy tale. And I believed them, even though I didn’t understand them. I believed in the magic of the Lord’s prayer.
“Give us this day our daily bread,” Father Brennan said. “And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.”
The words were washing over my body, and I was feeling relaxed and relaxed and relaxed. I wanted to stay in that position for the rest of my life. I wanted to feel that trance forever.
“And lead us not into temptation,” the priest said. “But deliver us from evil. For yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.”
“Amen,” we said.
I opened my eyes and looked in front of me. Father Brennan was standing up in his cassock, and he was smiling. Everyone else in the room was getting back to their feet.
“And now, I want to introduce a new member of the congregation,” Father Brennan said. “It is good to have him here with us, and it is good to have him among us.”
My stomach dropped, and my entire body froze. I was going to have to stand up in front of the entire church. I was going to have to introduce myself to everybody.
I felt a shiver run down my spine. I began to panic.
“Please help us welcome Marcus,” the priest said, pointing directly at me. “Please welcome our brother Marcus.”
I walked slowly to the front of the sanctuary, feeling like I was walking on eggshells. I was shaking, and my entire body was vibrating. I walked past the pews, and I could feel the eyes of the entire congregation on me. I felt like I was going to pass out.
I walked up to the priest, and he looked me in the eyes.
“Tell us a bit about yourself,” he smiled. “We want to learn more about you.”
I glanced at the congregation, and then I looked back at Father Brennan. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I had to talk. I had to say something. I had no idea what I was going to say, but I knew that I had to say something.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m nineteen, and I go to college here in town. I’m working at a coffee shop. I like to read and write, and I like to play the guitar.”
I stopped talking, and I felt like I had nothing more to say. I wanted to keep talking, and I wanted to keep explaining myself. But I couldn’t remember anything else. And I didn’t know what else to say.
“There is nothing else?” Father Brennan asked. “There is no other form of self-expression? No other part of you that you have to offer?”
I paused, but I didn’t have an answer. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“There is something else,” Father Brennan said. “There is something more. And you will find it. You will find it in time. And when it comes, you will be able to stand in front of this congregation.”
I nodded, and then I stared at the floor. I didn’t know what else to say.
“And I know that you will be able to stand in front of this congregation,” the priest continued. “Because the right thing will happen.”
I nodded again, and then I walked back to my seat. nobody was watching me. Everyone was facing forward, and everyone was looking forward. I was still shaking, and I was still vibrating, but it didn’t matter. I had done it. Everyone had immersed themselves in the mass, and I had been accepted for who I was.
When the mass was over, I waited for everyone to exit the church, and then I walked out of the sanctuary. I was excited and felt every moment deeply. I felt like I was sleeping and dreaming, but everything around me was real, and I could feel it. I was breathing in life, and I was breathing to the fullest. The dialects of English and the songs of the church were all running through my mind. I was a part of it all, and I was a new member of the congregation.
I walked down the steps, and I left the church without saying anything. And that was okay. I didn’t need to say anything. The doors were wide open, and the sunlight was bright outside.
After church, I went back to my dorm and took a long nap. Far from being exhausted from having gotten up early, I was feeling rejuvenated, and I wanted to lie in bed for a while. I was still thinking about the mass, and I was still thinking about Father Brennan. I wanted to think about him more. I wanted to think about him forever.
I woke up a few hours later, and I felt a twinge of hunger in my stomach. I wasn’t hungry for food. I was hungry for something else. I got out of bed and looked in the mirror. A burning desire, a confusing desire, was inside of me. I couldn’t articulate it but I felt its power. I needed to see Father Brennan, and I needed to see him now. I googled the phone number for the church office and called, not sure exactly what I was doing. I was just following my instinct and feeling the burning desire inside of me.
After a few rings, a woman picked up the phone. She sounded friendly and professional.
“This is Father Brennan’s office,” she said. “This is Sister Ann. How can I help you?”
I paused, and I swallowed hard. I took a deep breath, and then I closed my eyes.
“I’m Marcus,” I said. “Marcus Walker. I was at the mass this morning.”
“Yes, I remember you,” Sister Ann said. “Nice to talk to you again. Father Brennan and I were wondering if you would like to come by and chat. If you like, we can make you lunch, and we can catch up.”
“That sounds great,” I said. “That sounds amazing. I would love to come over. When should I come over?”
“How does right now sound?” Sister Ann asked. “You’re only a few minutes away, aren’t you?”
“I live on campus, but I can come over now,” I said. “I can walk over now.”
“That sounds great,” Sister Ann said. “Father Brennan will be so happy to see you again. He’s so happy to have you here at the church. This is a happy time for everybody.”
I walked over to the church, and it didn’t even feel like I was walking. I felt like I was flying. My feet were barely touching the ground, and I was feeling light as a feather. I didn’t understand what was happening, but I understood that it was all okay.
I knocked on the door to the rectory. The door was made of dark wood with old carved designs. I saw the doorknob turn, and then the door opened. Sister Ann looked into my eyes, and then she smiled.
“Come on in, Marcus,” she said. “Father Brennan is upstairs, and he’ll be pleased to see you. He’s very happy that you’re here.”
I walked into the rectory, and I gave a smile back to Sister Ann. I wasn’t sure what to do next. I was standing in a small foyer, and there were a few pictures of Jesus on the walls. I took a deep breath and walked up the stairs. I was clearly in a beautiful old building that had a lot of history.
I walked down a hallway with a gorgeous pattern of wallpaper. It looked kind of like a water color, and I felt a sense of peace. I knew that Father Brennan was waiting for me, and I knew that everything was going to be okay. I knew that Father Brennan knew exactly what to do, and I knew that I would be happy with him.
I knocked on the door to his private room, and I heard footsteps on the other side. He opened the door and welcomed me in with a smile.
“Marcus,” he said. “How wonderful to see you again. I’m glad that you were able to come over.”
“I’m glad to be here,” I said. “I’m glad that Sister Ann invited me. I didn’t know if you’d be free or not.”
“I’m always free for you,” he said. “I’m always happy to see you.”
I walked into the living room, and Sister Ann was already setting up a tray with a few slices of bread and some cheese. She smiled, and she started pouring me a glass of wine. I could see tiny particles floating in the wine, shimmering in the light like tiny red diamonds.
“You can sit down,” Sister Ann said. “You can help yourself to a glass of wine, and we’ll all eat together. I think we’re going to have a very nice visit.”
I took a bite of bread and cheese, and I looked at Father Brennan across the table. I didn’t know exactly what to say, but I knew that everything was going to be okay. There was still a burning desire inside of me, and I didn’t think I would ever feel completely satisfied, but I knew that Father Brennan was right. It would come to me, and it would happen in the right way.
“You were so inspiring this morning,” I said. “I was so glad to see you up there. I went up to you afterwards and talked to you, but I didn’t know what to do. I don’t really know what to say to you.”
“Nothing needs to be said,” Father Brennan said. “Witches have been burned for telling the truth, and here we are telling the world the truth. And the truth will set us free. The truth will release us from all of our burdens.”
“It’s so confusing,” I said. “I don’t know how it all works, but I want to know more. I want to know everything. I didn’t think I would ever feel this way.”
“You’re a brave fellow,” Father Brennan said. “You’re a good person, and you’re a good man. You’re a strong man, Marcus.”
Sister Ann handed me a glass of wine, and I took a sip from the glass. I looked at the wine, and it was a deep color with a rich taste. I felt a slight buzz in my head, and I felt a slight warmth in my body. I felt a connection to Father Brennan, and I felt a connection to Sister Ann. I suddenly loved them both with everything that was inside of me.
“I’m feeling it,” I said. “I’m feeling a connection to everything. I’m feeling a connection to you two.”
“That’s a good feeling, isn’t it?” Father Brennan asked. “And it comes from a good place.”
“It feels so good,” I said.
“Father Brennan is a great teacher,” Sister Ann said. “He’s a great teacher of the mysteries, and of the spirit. He’s been my teacher, and he’s been my friend. I couldn’t have done it without him.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I came here last year,” Sister Ann said. “to learn how to be a nun. I’m a nun now, and I’m going to start teaching next year. This is my home. This is my family. I couldn’t say it better than that.”
“Everybody has to start somewhere,” Father Brennan said. “Everybody has to learn how to take care of our temple. Our bodies are sacred. We need to be nice to our bodies, and we need to love our bodies.”
“I want to learn more,” I said. “I want to learn everything.”
“You’re the type of person who is meant to be here,” Sister Ann said. “Vehicle of light. I can tell when I see you. You’re a good man with a good heart. You’re a good soul. You’re here because you’re supposed to be here, Marcus.”
I closed my eyes and I took a deep breath. I felt a warmth in my heart, and I knew that everything was going to be okay. I knew that my future would be a bright one, and that Father Brennan was a great teacher. I knew that I would be a good student, and that I would someday learn everything.
“Marcus, I can feel your devotion,” Father Brennan said. “I can feel your dedication. I can feel the light in your eyes. We have a special relationship. I can feel it, and I know you can feel it, too.”
I nodded my head, and I smiled. I felt a little buzz in my head, and I felt the little red diamonds in my wine. I closed my eyes, and I felt a slight tingling in my body. I felt a slight red sparkle in my vision, and I felt the love in the room. I felt connected to everyone.
“I can see it,” Sister Ann said. “I can see the sparkle in Marcus’ eyes. I can feel the love between you two. I can feel the love in the room.”
“You can feel it?” I asked. “Is that normal?”
“It’s beautiful,” Sister Ann said. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“I feel it,” Father Brennan said. “I feel the sparkle in your eyes, and I feel the love in the room. I feel it, too.” The gaze of Father Brennan’s soft green eyes enveloped me. “The connection between us is strong. The connection between us is special.”
Characteristic of this time of my life, I was horny as all hell. Here I was, surrounded by sensuality, with Sister Ann serving me wine and Father Brennan talking to me about my feelings. With Sister Ann dressed in her black and white habit, and Father Brennan dressed in his white robe, I had a very strong urge to rip off the clothes of both of them. As if my thoughts were somehow transmitted to them, I saw them look at each other for a very quick moment, and then I saw them look back at me. I must have been just imagining it.
“What were you talking about?” I asked, trying to take my mind off of sex. “I spaced out.”
“I’m talking about the connection between us,” Father Brennan said. His voice was almost feminine, as if it was a gentle caress, as if it’s a lover’s whisper. “Designated by the cosmos.”
I felt safe in this space, like I could ask him anything, even my deepest fears and secrets.
“I have a question,” I ventured. “Just something I need guidance on. It’s about… marriage, I guess.
“Tell me,” Father Brennan said.
“A man is supposed to be with… a woman, right?” I asked. “And not… anyone else?” I was stammering. I had never expressed these sorts of questions to anyone before. “Like… he’s straight. He’s… he’s not gay. He’s… he’s not bisexual.”
“Sometimes,” Father Brennan said. “Sometimes, yes. But not always. There are other types of relationships. Quo vadis? You’re young, and I’m just the conduit for your thoughts. I’m just the teacher. I can’t tell you what to do.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I said. “Stirring up all of these things inside of me.”
“It’s okay,” Sister Ann said. “It’s okay. You’re young, and I’m the same way. I know what it’s like to be confused.”
I looked at Sister Ann and I looked at Father Brennan. It was so hideous how beautiful they both looked. Such a contrast between the two of them, so different, so beautiful. God, how I wanted to touch them both. Sister Ann was like an angel, her face smooth and flawless. Father Brennan’s eyes were an ocean of deep, murky yet crystal-clear green.
Strangely, Sister Ann and Father Brennan didn’t seem to mind what I had said, the shameful secret I had implied. Lust towards another man was a sin, yet this priest and nun didn’t seem to find anything wrong with me. Perhaps they were just curious about my thoughts. Maybe they were curious to learn how a young man would act out his desires.
“We all desire others,” Sister Ann said. “That’s a given. We’re all sexual beings. Sometimes we’re attracted to the same gender, sometimes we’re attracted to the opposite gender. Ubiquitous desire. Anyways, don’t worry about it. Just enjoy what you have.”
Sister Ann’s hand was resting on the table. I could see the light reflection of polished nails and soft cream flesh. It looked like the inside of a shell. This beautiful nun was so full of life, so full of love. She was such a great teacher. She was such a great guide. She made everything look so easy.
“I feel things,” I said.
“I can feel Marcus’ desire,” Father Brennan said. “Absorb it. Feel it. Love it. Caress it. Immerse yourself in it.”
I looked at Sister Ann and I looked at Father Brennan. Their eyes were holding me, and ignorant of all fear I slowly leaned in towards them. An agreement formed in my mind: I would just go with the flow and see where it led. I would just let the world burn and let the flames wash over me.
“I can feel love,” I said. “Shaky love. Jittery love. Like a rollercoaster of emotions.”
Thank god I had my wine.
Sister Ann and Father Brennan looked at each other, and then they looked back at me.
“Feel it,” Sister Ann said. “Feel the love. Feel it pulsating. Feel it burning. Feel it penetrating. Feel it all around you.”
I sat at the table and I felt something inside of me. It was warm. It was comforting. It was comforting the way starlight is comforting. I felt strong yet tender.
Father Brennan’s eyes glowed. His lips were curved in a smile.
“You are the vehicle of light,” Father Brennan said. “You are the vehicle of love. You are the vehicle of light.” Father Brennan leaned in towards me and he kissed me on the forehead. “And you are the light that loves all light.” He kissed me on the lips. Father Brennan’s breath was sweet and warm, like bread baking in the oven.
Sister Ann maintained a steady look of serenity. Father Brennan looked deeply into my eyes.
“You are the vehicle of love,” Father Brennan said. “And you are also the vehicle of lust.” He abruptly broke his gaze. “Sister Ann and I will leave you alone now. Just sit and enjoy.” Father Brennan and Sister Ann left the room, and closed the door behind them.
What happened? I sat at the table for a few moments, not sure what to do. Then, I began to feel myself getting aroused. The same way I had felt before, with Sister Ann and Father Brennan present, with them in the room. I felt a strong desire to be touched, to be kissed, to be loved. This desire was so strong that I felt my legs shaking, and they began to tremble so hard that they couldn’t support my weight, and the chair alone held me up. I began panting. In my mind, I was seeing the two figures of Father Brennan and Sister Ann, and I was imagining them getting undressed, wrapping their legs around each other and making love.
I wobbled myself upright, propping myself up with the back of the chair. I looked at the closed door. I was on fire. I was filled with this sexual energy that wanted to be released. Spicy and sweet at the same time. Sinful and beautiful, filled with all of this sexual tension, filled with all of this sexual yearning. I leaned my hands on the table and I stood up, and with my hands open and my eyes closed, I felt myself running my hands over my body. My sweater was made of a silky material, and it felt good to the touch. A twitch, a subtle pull as my body moved, as if I were a puppet pulled on a string. I felt my waist and my hips. The revolution of my hips was a sensual dance.
The room was lit by soft light of two lamps on the edge of the table. One lamp was bright and white, and the other dim and orange in color. I felt my chest and nipples through the soft sweater, feeling the silky material slide over them as I rubbed. The sweater was so thin that my fingertips could feel the softness of my skin through it, of my nipples. I let my hands wander over the smooth material of my sweater, feeling it slide between my fingers.
I pushed the sweater up to my shoulders and pulled it over my head, exposing my bare torso. I was pretty hairy for a 19 year old guy, as I’d realized often in the locker room. My abs were forming, but they were still soft and smooth, with only the barest hint of definition. My nipples were dark, and I ran my hands over them, shivering. I felt my body, the way it skinned up, the way it did a little dance for my fingers. Up and down.
I undid my belt and unbuttoned my pants. Couldn’t help myself. I had to touch myself. A town of lights… my body was the vehicle of lust. I had to feel this thing that was my body, that was me. I pulled down my pants, my underwear, and I stepped out of them. I pulled off my socks. I felt the softness of my legs, the softness of my belly, the slight thickness of my chest. My cock was hard, throbbing. My shaft was thick. I could see my shadow on the floor as I stood there… and I felt beautiful.
Now naked, I went on my knees. I felt the smooth, soft play of the carpet against my legs. Like a velvet glove around rippling flesh. I was naked. I was all alone. I was the vehicle of lust.
Managing a trembling hand, I grabbed my cock and I began to rub. I was so hard. So ready. I was like a teenage boy in his room, rubbing himself. I felt my hand get slick with my pre-cum. My thick pubic hair, the softness of my balls, the fatness of my dick. I rubbed up and down. I rubbed my machine, my cock. My mind was empty, empty with lust.
I felt myself getting closer and closer to orgasm. A burning sensation began in my body, in my groin. My breath was getting shorter with each moment that I stroked my cock. My cock was so hard and so thick… so hot and so wet with pre-cum. I felt a twinge… a tremor. A bolt of energy surged through my body, a surge of ejaculation. My body strained, my muscles tensed, and a streak of ecstasy coursed through me. It was a bolt of lightning, a shower of divine fire. My cock began to spasm, and a stream of cum shot out from my cock, squirting thick ropes of my seed over the plush carpet I was knelt upon. The carpet was soft and velvety, now pooled with the soft, white clouds of my cum.
Youthful lust is a drug, a tangible vapour that fills your body with its seductive fumes. You can sniff it in the air, or taste it on your lips, or feel its effect on your skin. I lay back, back on the soft carpet, with my legs outstretched. The two lamps on the edge of the table were like two shining eyes, watching me. There were no windows in the room. I was in the innermost part of the rectory.
I heard a gentle knock. “Are you finished? Finished praying?” came Sister Ann’s voice softly through the door.
I was jolted out of my trance. “One second,” I stammered. I quickly started to pull all my clothes back on. “Just a second,” I said again.
I tied the belt around my waist. I zipped up my pants. I re-buttoned my shirt.
Wiggly and apprehensive, I opened the door and saw Sister Ann and Father Brennan standing in the hall.
“We were wondering what had become of you,” Sister Ann said.
“I was… praying,” I said. “I was lost in prayer.”
“We understand, young man,” Father Brennan said. “You must feel the need to commune with the divine.”
“Yes, absolutely… absolutely.”
“Sister Ann and I will need to be preparing for vespers now. But this was a special day, Marcus. Thank you.”
Father Brennan showed me back to the front door of the rectory. Madly shaking my hands as I went, I said, “Thank you… thank you for… for… getting me… started.”
“Have a nice day.”
Outside again, I walked home to the dorm in a daze. What was that? What had happened there? What had I done?
And what had happened to me?
I awoke the next Sunday to the smell of my roommate, Spencer, making coffee. With exams coming up, I hadn’t been back to the church or rectory since the prior weekend and all that happened then. I wasn’t sure whether I should go to the service this morning. Fantastic thoughts and feelings had been stirred up in me over the previous weekend, and it was probably best to just let them rest. On the other hand, if I wanted to get myself together, I needed to address these things.
Spencer was in the bathroom when I got up, so I dressed quickly. I grabbed my sweater from the foot of my bed, paid attention to my hair, and headed out. I took the bus to church.
This time, the service had already started when I got there. Father Brennan gave a sermon, but I didn’t pay attention to it. I was still reeling from the previous weekend, still processing it all. A drawer in my mind was open, and the events of the weekend were still jostling to get out.
The church was as I remembered it, but the lights were off and instead the sanctuary was flooded with candle light. It was mid-morning, but the church provided enough darkness for the effect to be dramatic. The candles burnt with a golden light, and I could see their shadows on the walls and the pews.
Sister Ann joined me during the hymn, and we stood together. She had a black dress on and a white neckerchief. She winked at me. I felt a flush creep up my cheeks. I thought about the previous weekend. I wondered what Father Brennan was thinking. It had been a long time since I’d felt such a divine and overwhelming sense of connection with another person.
I did not know what I was feeling. Would I even be able to explain to anyone what I was feeling?
Father Brennan came down the aisle at that point and concluded the service with a prayer for peace around the world.
I was the only one who came up to Father Brennan afterwards, so I went up to him. He saw me approaching and came to meet me.
“We’re all done here,” he said, “so if you’re interested, you’re welcome to come to my office.”
“I’d like that,” I said.
“Come on then,” he said. “I’ll show you my office.”
We went out of the church, down the stairs, and back towards the rectory. His office was a different room from the one of last weekend. A beautiful French landscape painting hung on the wall. A bookshelf lined the other wall, and a large oak desk sat in the center of the room across from a window. The domed ceiling had a beautiful chandelier hanging from it. The day outside was overcast. The rain clouds were still low on the horizon, but I could see it had stopped raining.
“I’m afraid you missed some of the service,” Father Brennan said. “I gave some more of a sermon than I normally would.”
“It was good,” I said. “Thank you.”
“So, what can I do for you?” he said. There was a mischievousness in his eyes.
“I have a little bit of a confession to make,” I said, nervously.
“What is it?” he said. “You know that if you have a confession to make, I will keep it a secret.”
“I have a confession to make, a little one,” I said. “But it’s kind of… personal.”
“I’m listening,” he said.
“Ever since the night of the service… since last Sunday, you know, our conversation with Sister Ann and the vehicle of light and all, I’ve been really confused about something. I don’t really know what I’m attracted to, or what I like. I like guys, or I like girls, I like both or neither. I know this is kind of what we were talking about before, but I’m even more confused now. That room, our conversation, the wine, all of that was… it was special. Weird.”
“It was,” he said. “But I know you’ve been searching for this. What is it that confuses you?”
I was at a loss for words, still reeling from the previous weekend. I stood there in Father Brennan’s office, unsure of myself. I thought about my life, my struggles with the sexual identity. It had been a long time since I’d been attracted to someone, and I’d been searching for that feeling for a long time. I didn’t know how to put it into words.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I want this, but I’m not sure what it is. I’ve been trying to find a word to describe it, but I don’t know.”
“Do you want to try to relate it to a physical sensation?” he said. “A physical arousal?”
“Yeah… maybe,” I said. I was still a little confused. “It feels like my body is on fire.”
“In what way?” he said.
“I don’t know exactly,” I said. “I want to say it’s like my body is on fire and it turns me on. But it’s not just my body. It’s my… my… my mind and my heart. It’s my heart and my mind and my… my balls. All of my body is on fire.”
I was becoming rather worked up as I spoke. I was needing to express myself, and my body was responding. My face was flushed red. My heart was pounding.
“Do you feel sexually aroused?” Father Brennan said. “Do you feel like your body is on fire and that turns you on?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Okay,” he said. “It looks like you are finally ready to make the step of confession.”
“I am?” I said. I felt very embarrassed. I was still not sure if this was what I wanted.
“Yes, you are,” he said. “And you are welcome to do it here. No one will hear you. No one will know. I’ll be your confessor. I’ll protect you.”
I was still getting ready to say yes, when I looked up at Father Brennan. My words dried in my mouth. His eyes were penetrating. I felt the heat building in my body. It was like my body was on fire, but in a different way than I expected.
“I want to say yes,” I said. “I want to do this. But, I’m still interested in what you said about it being personal. I’m not sure I believe in confession. I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to confess.”
“I’m not trying to get you to confess anything,” he said. “But if you come here to me with the intention of using the confessional, then I will protect you, and be your confessor. You can tell me anything.”
“Okay,” I said. The sky outside was darkening, ready to rain. I discovered a new feeling, a feeling of being protected, being protected from judgment. “All right. How do I start?”
“Go back to what you were saying. Tell me how it feels to be on fire, to be aroused, to be turned on.”
I took a deep breath. “Roomy,” I said.
“I’m sorry?” he said.
“It’s like roomy,” I said. “Prayerful. It’s like I’m in a roomy spot, turned on, and it’s God-like. It’s like I’m experiencing prayerful arousal.”
“Sounds like you’re ready to make the step now,” he said. “All right. Now, close your eyes. Take a moment to come into your body.”
I closed my eyes. I felt the tension in my body. I felt the energy building, becoming more intense. I sensed Father Brennan’s energy. My whole body was pulsating. I felt a deep inner need. It was strong, and growing stronger.
“This is going to feel a little weird, but it will be safe,” said Father Brennan. “All right, I’m going to put my hand on your back. I’m going to sit down with you.”
I could feel him pulling up a chair, sitting down. I could feel him behind me, my eyes still closed. Noisy rain started to come down outside. Father Brennan’s hand touched my back, ever so gently. His fingers were like Tibetan prayer flags, or gauzy rose petals softly flutter. He slowly rubbed across my back, from my neck to my shoulders.
“The place where I’m touching is in the center of your body,” he said. “It’s the center of your body. It’s where you feel your deepest, most powerful feelings. When you feel this, you know it is the correct place.”
The rain was becoming more intense. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now,” I said.
“With my hand on your back,” he said, “take a breath in. And then, imagine a ball of light in your chest.”
I converted the description. “A rose-colored ball of light,” I said. “It’s in my chest, in my body, in my heart.”
“Good,” he said. “Go to the place where you are. Go to the place where you are on fire, where you are aroused, where you are turned on.”
This time I didn’t have to convert. It was there. The sensation was strong.
“Where are you on fire?” he said.
“I’m on fire… between my legs… between my legs,” I said. It felt improper to say but I wanted to speak the truth.
“There you are,” he said. He pressed the back of his hand against my shoulder, moving up. “I’m just rubbing your shoulder.”
He put his arm around my shoulders, gently pulling me inward. His hand glided up my neck, across my head, rubbing my head. The sensation was overwhelming. I couldn’t speak.
“Go on,” he said. “Take it in.”
I was helpless. The sensation was overwhelming. I was going to have to open up, to let it happen. I was going to have to let it happen.
“I’m going to go a little deeper,” he said. “I’m going to rub a little higher up, a little higher up.”
Still sitting behind me, each of us in chairs, his hand moved up, ever so gently, across the crown of my head. The sensation was beyond words. His hand is delicate, but solid. It was like butter.
“I’m going to stroke your eyelids now,” he said, reaching his hand around to the front of my face. He gently stroked my temples, my eyes, my forehead. My cheekbones, then my lips. The sound of his finger sliding across my lips was like the softest heartbeat.
“Open your mouth,” he said. He gently pushed my lips apart, allowing his finger to glide in. He began pushing it in and out of my mouth so softly and tenderly. My mouth involuntarily tightened around Father Brennan’s finger, sucking it. “Don’t fight it,” he said. “Just feel it.”
He pushed his finger deeper into my mouth. I relaxed my jaw, to allow him in. I knew what he wanted, and I was going to do it.
“You are beginning to receive me, to receive the spirit,” Father Brennan said. “It is very personal. It is very powerful. It will not harm you. It is meant to be here.”
I was sucking Father Brennan’s finger like a suction cup. My mouth was a pocket, a sheath. I was sucking his finger like it was a penis, like it was the organ that was about to penetrate my body.
“You are receiving me,” he said. “You are taking it in. Something is moving through you. I want to tell you that it is a highly spiritual thing that is happening. You are receiving something sacred. You are receiving something that will guide you. I want to tell you that it is a good thing. And I want to tell you that you are safe.”
I couldn’t speak. I was holding on to his finger with my mouth like it was my only lifeline. A little drool dribbled out the side of my mouth. Without thinking, my hands were finding a position of prayer. I dropped forward, down from the chair, onto my knees. Father Brennan stepped around and was now standing in front of me, still penetrating my mouth with his finger.
I felt his other hand on the back of my head. I could see the outline of his sturdy thighs, right before me, through his thin priest’s robe. I was like a little puppy dog, staring up at him, on my knees. My veneer was falling away. I had a desire inside of me for what was to come. I was going to do it.
“I want you to make the sign of the cross on your body,” he said. Again, I was surprised by the gentleness in his voice.
“I’m going to take your hand,” he said. He guided my hands to the front of my body, placing them underneath my nipples. “You are making the sign of the cross on your chest now,” he said. More flutter-tipped fingers, and my nipples were jumping as his fingertips now brushed them through my sweater, rubbing my chest hair back and forth beneath my clothes. Why did he have to be so gentle?
His index finger paused on my nipple. His finger moved down to my belly button, and down to the top of my pants, resting on the edge of my belt. Father Brennan’s voice was like a song, like an incantation.
“You are receiving the spirit,” he said. “You are walking in the spirit. You are walking in the spirit. You are walking in the spirit.”
His hand was now on the top of my belt, moving across the top of my pants, like an ocean wave. I could feel his hand like water, like butter, like heat. It was warm, slipping across the sensitive skin of my lower belly, where the hairs of my treasure trail splayed out. His hand gyrated, and I felt his finger start to move, like a snake, like a worm, like a little caterpillar, moving up through the hair of my treasure trail, and back down to the edge of my pants, to the waistband of my boxer-briefs. It felt like a doctor’s finger, probing and touching.
I felt Father Brennan’s finger enter, for the first time, the space underneath my underwear’s waistband. Against the tender skin of my groin. I felt the distinct sensation of his finger probing through cotton, through protective cotton to the warm, dark forest of my pubic hair. He drew tight little circles on my skin under my boxer-briefs, now just inches from my hardening cock.
“I am coming closer to you now, to your center,” Father Brennan said. He was rubbing his finger slowly, rhythmically, back and forth across my pubic hair. “I am coming closer to you now.”
I was begging for it. I wanted it. I wanted it like I wanted to breathe.
“You are opening to me,” he said. “You are opening to me.”
Now, his finger was moving through my pubic hair gently, rhythmically, like a little skipping rope. I could feel his finger getting closer and closer to my thick shaft. He gyrated the tip of his finger, and I felt it touch the head of my cock. It was like a shock, like a reflex. It was like an electrical charge.
“I am rubbing against you now.” Father Brennan’s voice was like a whisper. “I am rubbing against you.”
His finger was now rubbing up and down the shaft of my cock, as it pressed up against the edge of my underwear. An unusual feeling. I was praying. Please, please, please…
“I am inside you,” he said. His voice was higher-pitched, almost a whistle. It was crazy, I thought. I was desperate.
“I am inside you,” he said. “I am inside you.”
His hand was now inside my underwear, massaging the base of my balls. I felt his hand suddenly stop, and I felt a strange, tight sensation of emptiness. Father Brennan was suddenly standing up. He was taking a step back. Slowly, a strange look came over him. An awestruck look.
“I have entered you,” he said.
I was stunned. I didn’t know what to think. It was the weirdest sensation. I felt empty, like something was missing.
He smiled serenely. “Go now into peace. I will see you next Sunday, Marcus.” And like that, he passed briskly out of the room, leaving me to rearrange myself, my mouth hanging half-open in arousal and confusion.
THE END OF CHAPTER ONE