Date: Mon, 4 Apr 2011 22:34:40 -0400
From: chester <chester4skin@gmail.com>
Subject: Chester and the Church of Cock: Chapter two

Chapter II: A powerful dream unlocks the phallus loving unconscious

So powerful was his orgasm that Chester slept as though he had been given a
powerful narcotic.  When he awakened hours later with his cock against the
palm of his hand, he could feel globs of warm pre-cum had leaked out from
his foreskin. He started to slowly hump the bedsheets and luxuriated in the
memory of his dream.  Although he could remember but a few details, he was
certain these few hours of sleep were the deepest he had ever experienced
and filled with the most erotic dreams and lurid sexual desires that he had
ever imagined possible.  Every part of his body ached with the desire for
cock and sex.  He slipped a finger inside his sloppy foreskin and massaged
his cock head and he tried to remember his dream.

Chester recalled he was in a church or a large spacious edifice with
ceilings so high that he couldn't see where they ended.  It was dark, but
he could smell the burning of candles and the aroma of incense he
remembered from the time he was an altar boy well over twenty years ago.
He was standing far back from the altar, but he could see that, instead of
a crucifix, an enormous phallic totem pole was at the center of the apse.

Looking around he saw that the congregation was comprised of men. Most were
naked, but some wore the collar and shirts of the clergy while others wore
jockstraps around their necks.  Men of all ages and body types were raising
their hands and looking at the ceiling chanting prayers excitedly as their
erections swung back and forth. There came to be so many men in the church
that they were packed in man against man.  So many were there that the
erection of one man had no choice but to enter and the ass crack and anus
of the man in front.

Chester dreamt that he too was chanting in worship to god. But the hymns he
sang were strange and unlike anything he had sung before. As though
channelling the spirit of some lascivious being, he chanted hymns replete
with obscenities, calling out his sexual desires while looking at the
phallic totem at the apse. His hands high in the air, he sensed a cock as
long as an English cucumber penetrating him and spraying his insides with
fluid over and over again until it seemed he was being constantly douched
by the cockjuice of the stranger behind him.

Then he remembered looking off to the side and seeing a confessional booth.
He was drawn to its dark curtains and the dim yellow light bulb above
it. He started to make his way toward it across the floor and was poked and
penetrated by cocks all over his body along the way.

He entered the confessional booth and knelt.  The confessional was dimly
lit and smelled of incense and the powerful aroma of cock and cum.  Looking
up he saw an old, yellowing jockstrap handing on the wall flanked by two
used condoms on either side. Their white and cream-like contents dripped
rhythmically into a chalice on the floor. Their dripping sounded like the
ticking of an old grandfather clock. He raised his head and said
automatically, "Forgive me father for I have sinned, it has been ten years
since my last confession and I have many sins to confess."

The mesh window in the confessional opened. Through the opening there
suddenly appeared a face. It was Father Dyck, a priest he was extremely
attracted to once, but he hadn't thought about him in many years.

Father Dyck looked no older than when Chester knew him all those years
ago. He wore eyeglasses which were small suited to an academic or
professor. He remembered too that he sported a grey buzzcut which was in
contrast to thick dark grey goatee. Chester had lusted after him when he
was a boy and Father Dyck was in his 30s.  Although he had not remembered
the priest in quite some time, his subconscious led him to lust after men
who reminded him of the priest ever since.

Suddenly, strange letters appeared on the priest's forehead.  Chester
recalled thinking, `Aha...Alpha and Omega'.

"Chester, is that you Chester?" said the Father, his dark piercing eyes as
he looked at Chester.

"Yes, Father Dyck," he responded joyfully.

"Chester you've been gone from the Church too long. For your penance you
will lick my asshole, suck my balls and drink my cum," the priest then
turned around quickly, exposed his round manly ass through the confessional
window and spread it wide.

Chester lunged rabidly and directly with his tongue into Father Dyck's
hairy bumhole, holding himself steady with his hands firmly on either side
of his meaty buttocks.  He slurped loudly as he hungrily descended to the
priest's balls, yet he couldn't suck them fully into his mouth because they
were both too long and too round, like a mesh basket holding two hairy
grapefruits. Instead, he swabbed the Father's balls and asscrack in a
frenzy going up and down with his tongue in wild abandon. Father Dyck
turned around and swatted Chester's face repeatedly with his large
genitals.

"Behold the cum of the god Cock," he said. "Drink the fruit of the god
Cock, Chester, drink this fucking cockjuice" he said as he covered
Chester's face and body with long ropey arches of watery semen mixed with
yellow tangy piss.

"My fucking god, I am not worthy to receive thee," Chester mumbled as he
gulped and sputtered through the Priest's shower of semen and cockpiss,
"but only say the word and I shall be healed."

It was at this moment that Chester had awakened wide-eyed, covered in
sweat, and panting. Recalling this dream, his heart beat fast. He was
saddened to have left this dreamworld yet he was happy for his heart leapt
with joy at the thought of Father Dyck after so many years.  His cock too
tingled at the thought of such a church and its congregation of ecstatic
cock worshipping men.  Since giving up religion, he had missed gathering
with others in pursuit of a common worship and he had never consciously
considered such a church, but his fervor to do so now was planted deep in
his mind. His heart and mind raced with the zeal of an evangelist.

As a post-graduate student of religion and psychology, Chester believed in
mystical signs and the power of dreams. The force of this dream on his
psyche filled Chester with the desire to attend morning mass in search of
Father Dyck.  Kicking the blankets from his bed, he leapt to the floor and
dressed quickly in yesterday's clothes.

The desire to see Father Dyck after so many years made him dizzy with
excitement and lust.