Date: Thu, 30 Jun 2005 22:25:26 EDT
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: briarwood-2
All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or
are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language,
please exit now.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"BRIARWOOD"
aka "Whence Cometh My Help"
R.S.V
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
<><><><><>
BOOK ONE
Chapter Two
<><><><><><><><><><>
"May I ever be faithful to my Vows and Promises, may I renounce the
deceits of the world, the flesh, and the devil..." These words...the words
Cliff had chosen to live by, words that should not be spoken with tongue in
cheek. Oh, Cliff meant them, but, after thousands of times, one tended to
say them by rote. The confession, the contrition would last just long
enough until one felt the urge to go the way of the flesh...and then it
would be easy enough to say them all again,
Perhaps Cliff had chosen the priesthood for the wrong reasons. He
loved the drama of the mass...the spectacle of the theatrics. He had been
reared as a Baptist at his mother's side, only to learn that if he wasn't
immersed in baptism, he was doomed to eternal damnation. Cliff rebelled and
ran to the First Presbyterian synod where he could be saved from the
afterlife horror, by having a few drops of salt water sprinkled on his
head. That particular church had offered him a job as organist and
choirmaster for a whopping $25.00 a week. He could maintain his employment
by agreeing to join their church and add his name to their membership
roster, at which time he was given a pledge card to sign, asking that he
tithe and give 10% of his weekly earnings back to them---leaving $22.50,
before deductions. It was expensive to serve the Lord in an organized
religion. Any week that he failed to meet his monthly tithing, they sent
him a bill in the mail at the end of the month, marked, "Overdue" (Did this
mean that they didn't charge interest, but if he didn't comply, they could
repossess his soul and sell it to devil for a loss?). The church had become
a big business under a pseudo-spiritual guise. Cliff knew that if Christ
came back and decided to drive the money-changers out of the temples, once
again they would have to build a larger accommodation in hell to contend
with the unexpected overflow of religious con artists.
If he felt this way, why did Cliff choose religion as his
profession? He had found the God he was looking for one Sunday, quite by
accident when he entered an Anglican Church. This was the American version
of the Church of England that jolly old King Henry the Eighth had
established to sanction his divorces and wife-beheadings. By following that
king's standards, that particular church found very little in the world to
condemn. That's why Cliff felt that if it could forgive Henry for his
tyrannical maneuvers, it might not be so unforgivable to indulge in a
little male oral- or anal-sex. Surely the Archbishop would excommunicate
him for his ideas. but how would 'the Bish' ever know what Cliff was
thinking? If he confessed his sins, Cliff could have them pardoned until
the next time. For a kid of sixteen, it sounded like a pretty good deal.
That's what brought about the rift between Cliff and his
mother. She would rather see him dead that having what she thought of as a
Catholic for a son. The second storm hit when Roger announced to his family
that he was to be confirmed at the same time as Cliff. Roger was Cliff's
best friend, and a born follower who admired his buddy so much he would do
anything Cliff asked and follow Cliff's lead if it meant going into the
pits of Hell. Roger would just say, "Well, you did it. I was just doing
what you did!". So when Cliff decided on the Anglican priesthood, two steps
behind him in line was Roger. Cliff had often wondered if he told Rog he
was going to Sweden for a sex change, would Roger would have had his dick
cut off too? It's not that he loved Cliff in romantic or sexual sense; he
just loved Cliff for the things that Cliff did and that he only dreamed
about doing,
Their split between the two friends came about not by their
choice. Cliff's mother refused to let him pursue his avocation and would
not pay the college tuition to send Cliff to his chosen school. Instead,
Cliff had to settle for the state college which had free tuition for state
residents. To deter Roger from following Cliff's lead. his parents decided
to send him to a private college two states away. When the two realized
that they would be separated for possibly four years, Roger told Cliff that
he was going to ask his family to lend Cliff the money so that he could
join Roger. Roger had never had to do without anything and felt that his
family could afford to help Cliff, but Cliff's southern pride wouldn't hear
of it. And so the two best friends found themselves saying goodbye. For a
year? Forever?
<><><><><><><>
The state university wasn't anyone's idea of luxurious higher
education. The dorms had 32 rooms per floor, each room no larger than a
cell in the state pen, ten feet wide and twelve feet long. In order to
house two students, bunk beds were necessary; one desk, two straight back
chairs, one chest with four drawers to be evenly divided between two
students and a 2'x3' closet completed the living quarters. The only
electrical outlet had two outlets, one of which could accommodate a clock
radio, leaving a spare socket to power everything else...TV. alarm clock,
iron, hair dryer, whatever, depending on your needs at a particular time of
day. The roster of roommate assignments was posted on the bulletin board
in the downstairs lobby. Across from Cliff's name, he saw 'Vittorio
Argenziano'. Cliff prayed 'Vito' wouldn't bring more than one suitcase,
because only two would fit beneath the bottom bunk. Being that Cliff was
the first to arrive, he 'chose' to let his roommate take the top bed,
hoping he would not be 6'4" and weigh 300 lbs. Fortunately, Vito was a
little guy...maybe 5'6" and about 125 lbs in a rain storm. Vito couldn't
described as an Italian hunk or a de Caprio, but he was cute. He had coal
black hair, blue eyes, and long lashes...like a modern Michelangelo cherub.
Though raised as a Roman Catholic, Vito had long since lost all
hope of becoming Pope. His sister had gotten herself pregnant; deserted by
the father of her child, she had disguised herself and gone to an abortion
clinic. Her secret was soon revealed and the Church took action, promptly
excommunicating her. Her parents became enraged and quit the church while
loudly denouncing its medieval doctrines. Vito, still feeling he had
received a "call" to serve, had gone in search of more modern
beliefs. During his plight, he had stumbled across the Anglican church and
adopted its more liberal catechism. He could still become Father Vito and
maybe even, one day, Archbishop Vito. It's funny how the rules and dogma of
man's interpretation of the scriptures can shape and change directions of
one's destiny.
Vito was pleased that both he and Cliff, had the same goals. Cliff,
too, relished the idea of having someone to share his thoughts while
escaping from the dogmatic hierarchy under which the two had been
raised...Vito's was Roman Catholicism and Cliff's, the Southern Baptist
church. Though they weren't what one would call a match made in heaven,
Cliff liked Vito from the first time they met, even though Vito was not a
solid substitute for Cliff's old wrestling rival and best friend,
Roger. Still he realized that his adolescent years were behind him, and
that he would have to adapt to his new 'roomie'.
"We're going to be living in very cramped and close quarters
without much privacy, so maybe we ought to set a few rules to make our
living arrangements more copasetic." Cliff said. "Number one, no overnight
guests. Two, no food brought in the room that can't be eaten in one
sitting, unless it is package-sealed, bottle-capped, or in an airtight
container. There's no room for two guys and one cockroach. Three. the other
person must remain quiet while his roommate is studying or sleeping...Now
what rules do you have?"
"No borrowing of money unless it's an emergency. No pranks played
on one another. No delving into each other's private lives unless it's
something we want to share." Vito added. "Anything else?"
"We might as well get this out of the way...what about sex?"
"What ABOUT sex? You said no overnight guests, and I'm not queer,
so what kind of sex are you talking about?"
"I mean nightly sex...by ourselves...y'know, masturbation?"
"I don't masturbate."
"You're joking?"
"I know what it is and I've been taught all my life that it's wrong
and I don't do it."
"Have you ever done it?"
"No."
"Jesus! You HAVE led a chaste life. I couldn't survive unless I
beat off three or four times a day."
"Well, can you do it quietly or, better yet, when I'm not in the
room? I'd rather not be around while you do it."
"Damn, man, don't you ever get erections or anything?"
"Sometimes."
"What do you do about it...just walk around with a boner pressing
out of your pant leg?"
"I read my Bible or think about something else until it goes away."
"I may have to buy you some ear plugs. I don't know it I can beat
off quietly...Don't you ever have wet dreams?"
"I've had a few...but I find if I take a cold shower right before
bedtime, I usually don't have one."
"Maybe we ought to have a signal or something. I could hang a flag
or leave a shirt on the outside doorknob while I'm getting off and I'll
take it down before you enter the room."
"If you find that necessary..."
"Vito...are you totally virgin?"
"Totally."
"Oh boy, I can see right now I'm gonna have to learn to speed up my
orgasms,"
"I take it you are NOT a virgin, then?"
"Let's say I'm a qualified virgin."
"What does that mean?...you've done things with girls without
having intercourse?"
"Not exactly...Okay, I can't see having confession during our first
meeting, but okay...let's put it this way...With girls...I am a virgin."
"You've had sex with guys?"
"Guy...singular...my best friend."
"Where is he?"
"He's in Virginia. Going to college there...Studying to be an
Anglican priest like us."
"Doesn't this destroy your so-called morality, admitting you've had
male sex?"
"The Anglican church doesn't condemn male-male sex." Cliff replied.
"It doesn't condone it, either...Am I gonna have to worry about you
attacking me in my sleep at night?"
"No, I already told you...that my friend Roger has been my only sex
partner and neither one of us has ever attacked the other, or anyone else,
for that matter...Believe me, your celibacy is in no way in any danger from
me."
"I'm not pugilistic, but I just wanna warn you that if you ever DO
try anything with me...I'll do my best to flatten you. I may be little but
I strike a fierce blow."
"I'll remember that..." Cliff started to kid him, "YOU just
remember if the time ever comes that you feel horny or you can't read
enough chapters to get rid of a hard on, come and see me and I'll show you
a great way to get rid of it...I'm a very good teacher!"
"Cliff, I'm afraid Gabriel will blow his horn at midnight before I
ever get around to asking you for that."
"Four years of college can be a long, long time without
ejaculating."
"I've managed so far."
This conversation had been both stimulating and challenging to
Cliff, for he'd never seen someone so set in his puritanical ways regarding
the flesh. This might be a good game to play, to see how long it would be
before Cliff had him chewing on his knob. Cliff also thought he had better
look around the campus for potential sex partners before he became a clone
of Vito. Cliff still refused to believe a college freshman had gone his
whole life and never felt the sensation of solo sex. Why this kid had
deprived himself of one of God's greatest pleasures? Cliff thought, 'If I
could get him to try it, just ONE time...That's all it would take!'
<><><><><><><>
The first two weeks of school, Cliff remained remarkably busy,
getting used to college life, studying, matriculating in his various
classes, and learning to feeling free from the clutches of his mother. She
wasn't around to tell him how to live his life, to steer his way of
thinking. Cliff was becoming his own person for the first time, and was
loving it. He was pleased to find an Anglican church about three blocks off
campus. He attended Morning Prayer three times a week and Evening Vespers
Monday thru Friday. Vito was anxious to join him at these services. Usually
at the Friday morning communion, he would go out for breakfast with the
rector, Father Willingham, a handsome man of 35, but looking even younger.
Fr. Willingham had attended college on a athletic scholarship,
playing varsity soccer. He was blonde with blue eyes, still had his
muscular build, and bore a striking resemblance to Richard Thomas from the
Waltons, but without the birthmark on his right cheek. It was permissible
for Anglican priests to marry, but Fr. Willingham had remained single. The
rectory for the church was large enough for a family of five or six, but he
lived there alone.
During the second breakfast Cliff shared with the young priest at
"The Toddle House" he asked Cliff to call him Kent or Father Kent, which
even made Cliff more comfortable with his rector. Cliff wasn't quite
nineteen years old and still honored his elders and especially a designate
of the church, so 'Kent' was not respectful enough, thus the politically
correct moniker became 'Father Kent. The old adage 'it takes one to know
one' was soon in effect. Cliff was sure that Father Kent was not only a
"friend of Dorothy's" but he knew Toto as well. Cliff learned to admire and
respect him as a mentor and a confessor.
Father
Kent had served Vito communion many times but had never shared a private
conversation with him. He had never been asked to join the Father and Cliff
for Friday breakfasts and the camaraderie the two shared. Sometimes at the
morning mass when the crowd was smaller than usual, Fr. Kent would
accidentally pour too much wine in the Chalice and since it was his duty to
make sure all the wafers and wine were to be consumed at mass end, Cliff
always stayed at the end of the line to be the last to be served. When it
came Cliff's time to drink from the cup, Kent would literally pour a half
cup down Cliff's throat when he tipped it for him to drink, Kent would
whisper, "Help me out...drink some of this, I poured out too damned much."
Cliff complied by drinking and swallowing as rapidly as he could,
to keep from drawing too much attention to his long communion. Often, Cliff
felt tipsy as he returned to his pew and genuflected. In his mind, Cliff
wanted to say 'Whee' as he went down on one knee, 'anything to help a
friend out!' But Cliff also knew that his professor in his first morning
class often wondered if Cliff was an alcoholic as his breath reeked of wine
when he entered the classroom. The professor never said anything, but Cliff
knew he would never accept the truth that he had just come from communion
at church.
Cliff kept waiting and praying and, one day, finally his prayer was
answered. Fr. Kent invited him to his house on a Friday evening for dinner
and to watch a video. Kent had given him a coupon good for a free rental
at Blockbuster. With almost demonic intent, Cliff chose a tape with an
ulterior motive in mind. It was a British film called "Priest", the story
of a Liverpool priest, Father Greg, played by Linus Roache, who met a guy
named Graham, played by Robert Carlyle, in a gay bar and had a sexual
awakening which he had kept suppressed for years. Cliff had seen it before
but he was determined to play the innocent, suggesting that he wasn't
familiar with the video or its plot. Cliff remembered a couple of good
scenes where the two guys had kissed and made out and he wanted to watch
Fr. Kent's expressions more than he wanted to re-watch the film. Little did
Cliff know that Kent secretly owned a copy of the tape and HE wanted to
watch Cliff's reactions. Two minds with one thought. etc?
They had a nice dinner, replete with wine and afterward went into
the den to watch the movie. Cliff knew just about where in the film the
first bedroom scene occurred so he started watching Fr. Kent's face out of
the corner of his eye. When the action between the actors got hot and
heavy, Cliff turned his head toward his host to get a good look only to
learn Kent was already looking squarely at him.
"You've seen this film, haven't you?" the priest-host asked.
"Yes, and from the look on your face, you have, too." Cliff
responded, inwardly delighted.
"You're a scheming little devil, concocting some fiendish plot to
see if I would respond to this cinematic action!"
"Well, did you?...Did you respond?"
"If you're asking do I have an erection, the answer is 'yes'. If
you're asking if it was the scene in the movie that gave me one...the
answer is 'no'. If you ask me if I get one every time I get near you...the
answer is...always!"
"Is that why you invited me to dinner?" Cliff attempted to look
innocent, but failed miserably.
"Partially."
"Were you...were you trying to find out if I was gay?"
"No, I knew you were gay. I just didn't know if YOU knew it."
"So did you really invite me over to go to bed with you?"
"Only if you want to." The young priest's eyes told the story.
"Well, why the hell didn't you say so, instead of wasting two hours
watching this movie?"
"What time do you have to be back at the dorm?"
"I don't. I signed out for the whole night."
"You were hoping to spend the whole night with me. without knowing
if I would ask you?"
"I wasn't hoping. It was more like praying...Well, are you going to
be the 'answer to my prayers' or not."
"I'd rather answer that question in the bedroom."
"Let's go then!!!"
In spite of his apparent eagerness, this would be Cliff's first
experience with anyone other than Roger. He looked at his mentor and found
himself looking forward to going to bed with his own 'John Boy'.
There was nothing boyish, however, about Kent's body. Beneath the
clerical collar and embroidered vestments he wore at the altar was the body
of a man...a big, hunky, beautiful man and tonight he was going to offer
Cliff a different kind of communion.
"Father Kent, before we begin, I have to tell you that I'm not very
experienced. Oh, I've had a lot of gay sex...just not with a lot of
people...well, not even that many...it's more like...one person...but we
did it a lot of times."
"Will you just relax and enjoy the evening? Would you like some
more wine?"
"Oh, no. If I had any more, I might not be able to get it to stay
up!"
"All right, come over here to me. I want to undress you." Cliff's
response was to walk slowly toward the muscular man till they were almost
touching.
Kent disrobed Cliff in such a precise ritual, Cliff almost felt
like he should say a collect or something before they proceeded to the next
step...maybe ring a tiny bell or something. This was not just Cliff's first
experience since arriving at college, it was more like a religious
experience. He tried to keep from feeling he was a sacrificial lamb about
to be "laid" on the altar. Cliff imagined he could smell the essence of
smoldering jasmine. Surely to God, Kent hadn't lit a sensor to put under
the bed!
When Cliff was completely naked, Kent told him to lie on the bed
while he undressed. As he removed his clothes, Kent proved that his nude
body left nothing to be desired. It was a fantasy to live for many months
to come in masturbatory sessions. Cliff suddenly hoped Vito had a lot of
studying to do in the library because Cliff would have a lot of
masturbation to do after this night,
Fr. Kent came over to the side of the bed and peered down at his
young guest. "Cliff, you are absolutely beautiful, I've wanted you since
the first day I looked into your eyes at the altar rail. I've imagined this
moment over and over in my mind and I'm in no way the least bit
disappointed, You're everything I expected...and then some! I want to thank
you for coming over, Cliff. It's been a long time since I had an overnight
guest."
"You mean you don't do this with all you new parishioners?" Cliff
joked.
"Would you believe me if I told you that you were the first?"
"Sure...why would a priest lie?...But. Why me?"
"I don't know...maybe it's because you reminded me so much of
myself when I was your age...maybe it's because I felt you looked up to me
or trusted me...or maybe it's because I felt you wanted to be like me. or
maybe a combination of all the 'maybes'."
"I suppose I should be honored that you chose me...but I kept
feeling you didn't trust me completely...you wouldn't let me do anything to
you. It made me feel inferior...like I wasn't good enough or something...I
know I told you I was inexperienced but that I was willing to learn, to try
anything."
"I know, but I have my reasons."
"You took a vow of auto-celibacy or something like that?"
"No, but that's pretty funny,"
"You have a boyfriend then, and you promised you wouldn't let
anyone touch you."
"No...I don't have a boyfriend."
"Have you ever had one...being a priest and all?"
"I had one, once."
"And?"
"He died...five years ago."
"I'm sorry...Was he sick or did he have an accident or something?"
"He was ill...for a very long time...and I took care of him...right
to the end."
"He have cancer?"
"No...he had AIDS, he died from pneumonia."
"My God!...I never knew anyone who had AIDS."
"You do now."
"I swear I don't...I mean, no one..," His voice failed him as the
light began to dawn..."You?"
"Yes, Cliff...I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It was wrong of me. I
took every precaution to be careful in not endangering you. You didn't even
know I was using a tongue condom, did you?"
"No...It never occurred to me."
"Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"
"Of course."
"You're the first person I've even attempted to have any kind of
sex with since I found out about myself, a few month's after Paul's death."
"I DO feel honored then,"
"I was a goddamned fool for inviting you over, to even think about
doing such a foolish and dangerous thing."
"Don't sweat it...I've read that people who have AIDS or HIV can
have sex without infecting their partners if they know how to do it
safely,"
"I have read the same things, Cliff. Believe me when I tell you I
memorized every 'do' and 'don't', before I ever considered asking you to
come over. The only rule I broke was not letting you in on my secret. That
was unfair...and I wouldn't blame you if you hated me for that."
"Hell, no, why should I hate you? It was probably the greatest
night I've had since...well, perhaps, since I last saw my best friend."
"You mean, you're not really mad?"
"I said it, didn't I?"
"You wouldn't be afraid to come back here again if I invited you?"
"Father Kent, I TRUST you, What do I have to say or do to convince
you of that?"
"I guess, since you didn't slug me and run out the door, that
should be enough."
"Father...don't take this the wrong way...but the next time you
feel you have some excess tension, so to speak...just wink at me at the
altar rail and I'll be over here in a flash."
"You are some character, with a good sense of humor. If you follow
in your chosen profession, you're going to need that."
Cliff stood up and propped his hand against the bed post. The other
hand he put on his hip in a Mae West post and said, "Well, Father, have you
had enough of me or are you ready for second helpings?"
"I just want to go to bed with you and go to sleep...no sex...It's
been so long since I held a man in my arms."
"Anything you want...it's yours..."
Kent cradled Cliff's back and they curled up and went to sleep.
<><><><><><><><><><><><>
"Well, did you have a big night on the town?" Vito asked when Cliff
sauntered in the dorm room.
"Yeah, I hitched a ride into town and went into this gay bar, I had
about six beers and went to take a piss and the whole crowd followed me in
the bathroom and wouldn't let me leave until I had sex with every one of
them. Fourteen of them fucked me and I gave seventeen blow jobs before I
got back to the bar...and that was just the beginning of the evening...I
must've hit five or six more bars before I wound up at this all-male orgy
at this stripper's house. I was so drunk I lost count of my orgasms after
one hundred and twenty-three."
"My Lord!! Are you telling me the truth?"
"Scout's honor! You should've been there to keep count for
me. you're so good at math."
"You ARE putting me on...No one can have 123 orgasms in one
night!!"
"How would you know...have you ever had ONE...YET?"
"Well...no, not consciously!"
"Well, what the fuck are you waiting on? You let your balls go a
long time without cumming and you'll wind up having testicular cancer
before you're twenty five!"
"You're kidding?"
"Nope, I read in this medical journal that if a guy didn't cum at
least twice a day by the time he's 21, it's very likely he'll die from
cancer of the testicles before he's 25."
"Are you serious...I mean, can you get the article and let me read
it?"
"Sure, it's in a stack at the library...Tell me something...when
you start to pee...do your balls hurt some time?"
"Yeah, some time..."
"Uh oh! That's an early warning sign! If I were you, I would start
jerking off THREE times a day, just to be safe...before it gets any more
serious."
"Do you think I'm too late?...I mean, do you think if I started
jerking off on a regular basis, I might NOT get testicular cancer?"
"I'd start anyway if I were you...I'd take no chances."
"Well, you know, I've never done it...would you...laugh if I asked
you to show me the best way of doing it?"
"No, I wouldn't laugh. Of course I'll help you...I mean, what are
roommates for?"
"What do I have to do?"
"Well, first, you have to take ALL your clothes off, since it's
your first time." '
"Shoes and everything?"
"Yeah, you don't want anything getting in your way. When you
ejaculate the first time, you never know where it's gonna land. You could
ruin your clothes...Hell, you could even shoot your eye out...you gotta do
it slow and be very, very, careful...Wait! Let me get a pillow to hold in
front of my face. I don't want you to shoot my nose off!"
It might've been funny if Cliff hadn't seen this kid swallow the
cock-and-bull story he'd just been fed. But it was Cliff's turn to 'save
Vito's life' and show him how to ward off a dreaded cancer. Damn, the kid
was hung like an Italian stallion! Cliff couldn't believe it had grown to
such a length without a daily--or nightly--workout! When Vito was
completely sans clothing, Cliff wanted to teach him the true delight in
becoming aroused and getting a hard on. Cliff placed his hand around it,
one finger at a time, starting with the littlest. Then he firmed his
grip...BOING! Vito was instantly hard. Next Cliff started to show him how
to get the full sensation with long and slow stroking...but, like something
out of a Mark Brothers movie, on the second stroke, Vito climaxed. The
stream of jism was so powerful that it could defy the world's record, maybe
ten feet...all the way to the end wall of the room. It was like a fire hose
that had gotten out of control...he kept spurting again and again and
again! It hit the upper bunk. It sprayed the report Cliff was writing for
English on the desk. One burst hit the top of Cliff's forehead and nearly
parted his hair. Cliff wanted to scream, partly in delight! The room looked
like someone had popped a huge balloon filled with cream-colored silly
putty and sprayed the room.
When the room looked like it could qualify for emergency relief and
be declared a disaster area, Cliff unlocked his grip and sat there looking
around in disbelief. Vito had a very satisfied smile on his face,
"Wow! No wonder you enjoy that," The young Italian said,"...but how
can you do that three or four times a day without messing up everything?"
"I think that only happens on your very first time, It won't be
that dramatic the next time."
"How soon before I can do it again?"
"As soon as I call my mother and see if my hospitalization is
paid...then I'll show you how to do it all by yourself."
Vito looked quizzically at Cliff, not sure if Cliff was being
serious... and he WAS!
Cliff looked upward and said a silent prayer. "Oh Lord, I commend
me to thine almighty protection. Guard me, I beseech thee, from all dangers
which may await me. from violence and destruction to which I may be
exposed. Conduct me to thy haven of safety. Amen"
<><><><><><><><>
(To be continued in Chapter Three of "Briarwood")