Date: Sat, 24 Nov 2012 08:21:51 -0800 (PST)
From: Henry Brooks <hankster1430@bellsouth.net>
Subject: Discovery Short story

				 Discovery

				 Part One
			   Marriage on the Rocks

Robert and Marissa had been married for over twenty years.  The early years
had been loving and glorious.  They produced two children, a boy and a
girl.  Now both children were out on their own, and Robert and Marissa were
empty nesters.  The problems between them began several years before the
children left their home.

Robert had no formal education; he wasn't particularly handy.  He always
had two or three jobs at a time; usually as a sanitation worker, a retail
clerk, a server, even an usher in a theater.  He did what he could to make
a buck.  Earning a living was tough for him.  The couple managed to squeeze
by, but finances were always an obstacle.  Money, or rather the lack of it,
never caused marital troubles, until the last few years.

After their younger child began to attend school full time, Marissa worked
as much as she could.  She too had no skills, and usually worked in a
retail environment.  It certainly helped ease the financial burden, but did
not eradicate it.  When their children were in high school, Marissa began
to express herself very vocally.  Her long-time discontent turned to bitter
resentment at Robert's inability to provide better for his family.  Her
nagging became constant, and continued all evening until they went to
sleep.  It also effectively put an end to their sex life.

Their daughter married young, just to get out of the house.  After high
school, their son got a good paying job as an auto mechanic, and he took an
apartment of his own with two room mates.  He made better money at his one
job than his father made at several, which only added to Marissa's
discontent with Robert's lack of ability to make a decent living.

Robert didn't know how to handle the situation.  In his heart, he knew that
he was doing all he could to earn money.  He couldn't work more hours than
he already did.  He thought about the two of them going to marriage
counseling, but he couldn't afford it.

Marissa attended their church every Sunday without fail.  If Robert wasn't
working somewhere, he went with her.  He didn't believe much in the weekly
repetitive ritual of the service, but he went to make Marissa happy, and
because he was growing very fond of Father Francis, his parish priest.

Francis Malloy had come to the church directly from the seminary.  He was
hired to assist Father James, who was nearing retirement.  That was fifteen
years ago.  Now, at forty, Francis was the senior pastor.  Robert always
felt comfortable with Francis.  They were more or less contemporaries, and
what Robert enjoyed most about his pastor were his homilies.  They were
always inspiring messages of love.  He had never heard Francis utter one
negative word about anyone or anything, a welcome respite from the unhappy
tirades he got at home.

Robert never went to confession, so the good Father did not really know
him.  When he got a call from Robert requesting a meeting with him, he set
it up, but he racked his brain trying to picture Robert Clemens.  Not one
single image came to mind.  He would just have to wait for the meeting.
Robert was working three jobs at the time, and had precious little
availability, so Francis agreed to meet him after church the following
Sunday.  Robert told Marissa that he had to rush back to work after mass,
but he secretly returned to the church.

Robert knocked on Francis's office door, and when hearing "Enter," he did
so.  Francis looked up from his desk, and he could not hide his surprise.
He was facing a movie star.  The man in front of him was about six feet,
two inches tall.  He had not lost any of his salt and pepper curly brown
hair.  His eyes were sky blue and his smile would charm the devil.  Moving
down his body, Francis could see exceptionally broad shoulders leading to a
slim waist.  Robert was fully dressed, but Francis could see that he was
muscular and had no fat.  The priest was only disappointed in one thing.
Robert's slacks were loose fitting, so that there was no outline to hint at
what kind of package the man had.  Francis assumed it was as manly as the
rest of him.

The priest stood up to shake Robert's hand and Robert got his own little
surprise.  Francis was wearing street clothes.  He stood about six feet
even.  His eyes were as blue as Robert's, but he had a darker complexion.
His straight hair was black.  Underneath his robes, Francis had never given
any hint of how muscular he was.  In fact, Francis set aside two hours a
day, three days a week, to work out at Duffy's Gym a few blocks from the
church.  He was only wearing a tee shirt, and Robert marveled at his biceps
and obvious spectacular abs.  He was also wearing tight jeans and there was
no doubt that the man was very well endowed.  Robert had seen many such men
in his day, and was shocked to find himself getting aroused.  He was
grateful when his pastor asked him to be seated, and Francis returned to
sit behind his desk.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Clemens.  Your wife comes to confession
regularly, but I don't recall any visits from you."

"In a way, Father, that's part of what I came to see you about.  I work so
many hours a week that I don't have the time or the opportunity to sin.  If
I'm not working, I'm sleeping."

Francis chuckled.  "Please," he said, "when we are informal like this, I
prefer if people call me Frank.  OK?"

"It's a deal, Frank, if you'll call me Bob."

"We've got a deal, Bob.  Now talk to me."

Bob was not good at expressing himself.  As best he could, he described how
money had become the focal point of his marriage for the past several
years.  His wife was growing more and more discontent.  She harped at him
constantly for providing so little for her.  They were never intimate
anymore.  Bob was surprised that he could tell the priest something that
private, and not be embarrassed.

Frank was feeling bad for Bob, but he was thinking that he really could
offer very little advice.  Searching his mind for the right words to ease
Bob's tortured soul, Bob himself saved the day.  "I think Marissa is having
an affair.  I'm never home, and she has plenty of opportunity."

Now Frank came to life.  "What makes you think so?" he asked.

"Well, this past year, she has been buying herself new clothing and jewelry
we can't afford.  I haven't paid any bills for these things, and when I
asked her about it, she said that she saved up the money from her salary.
Frank, she doesn't earn enough to buy a breakfast at McDonald's."

"Have you made her aware of your suspicions?"

"No.  I'm afraid to do so.  What would happen to us if my suspicions are
real?"

"Well, it would be my suggestion that you speak to her, and clear the air.
Maybe there's a plausible explanation.  After you speak to her, if you are
still troubled, you can always come here and talk to me."

"Yes Frank, I promise I will."

Frank stood up as if to dismiss Bob.  Bob did not know then, or ever in the
future, what possessed him to do what he did, but he said to Frank, "Hey
Frank, I told Marissa that I was working all afternoon, and so I can't go
home.  Would you have lunch with me?  We can talk further and get to know
each other."

"I'd love that, but you shouldn't be spending any money.  Come back to the
parish house, and I'll make something light for us."

"Thanks Frank.  That would be an honor for me."

Frank whipped up two cheese omelets with rye toast and coffee.  The two men
started to eat in silence until Frank said, "You told me that you and
Marissa were not intimate any more.  Forgive my boldness, but do you see
other women?"

"Like I told you, Frank.  I don't have time to sin.  Forgive me for being
blunt also, but I whack off a few times a week."  Bob began to blush.

"Relax Bob.  How do you think celibate priests handle it?"

Bob looked amazed.  "I never really thought about it, but if you do think
about it, it makes sense."  They both started to laugh.

"You know," Frank said taking hold of Bob's hand, "even if you can resolve
these issues with your wife, I'd still be honored if you visited with me
whenever you could.  I'd really like for us to be friends.  If you ever
have spare time, maybe we could go bowling together, or to a ball game."

"Gee Frank, I'd like that.  I'd like that a lot."

They made small talk for another couple of hours, neither realizing how
much time had passed.  Finally Bob said that he should get going.

"It's an hour or so earlier than I told Marissa that I'd be home, but I can
tell her that I left work early.  It might be a good time for our talk."

                               Part Two
                            Sex Education

When he arrived home, there was a strange car in his driveway so Bob had to
park his car in the street.  .  It was an expensive Mercedes-Benz sports
car.  Bob was about to get out of his car, when he was zapped in the face
by a lightening bolt.  Could the car belong to Marissa's lover, if indeed
she had one?  He drove his car up the street, and discreetly parked many
yards away, but in a place where he could still see his front door and
driveway.  He waited for about a half hour, and his wait was rewarded.

Marissa opened the front door where she was standing with a man who seemed
to be about fifty years old.  He was very distinguished looking, with
graying hair, and an expensive looking suit.  Marissa looked up and down
the street, and when she couldn't see any neighbors, she gave the gentlemen
a passionate kiss, and he left.  Dazed by the shock of what he had just
witnessed, Bob immediately drove back to the parish house and knocked on
Frank's door.

"What's wrong?" Frank asked.  "You look like you've been struck by a
train."

"I didn't have to ask her anything, Frank.  I saw the guy with my own eyes.
His car was in my driveway when I got home, so I just continued to drive up
the street a short way, and waited until he came out.  He's rich, maybe
fifty.  He drives a Mercedes-Benz.  They kissed each other goodbye."

Bob buried his head in his hands and started to cry.  Frank put his arms
around him in an attempt to comfort him.  Instinctively they held each
other tightly.  They both became aware of it at the same time.  Each man
could feel the other getting hard and pressing firmly against him.  They
didn't dare look at each other, but without shame they pressed their
hardness tighter against each other, and began to gyrate their hips.  It
was as if they were bewitched.

Suddenly Bob pulled away.  "Oh God," he cried.  "I almost came.  What's
happening here?"

"Don't fight it," Frank whispered softly.  "It's something you need
desperately."  He pulled Bob back to him, but this time he reached down and
engulfed Bob's cock through his trousers.  Bob was as big as the priest
thought he would be.  Frank started to massage Bob's cock, and before he
could warn him, Bob came, screaming in Frank's ear.  Bob looked in Frank's
eyes for a second and their lips locked.  A second later their tongues were
dueling.  This was all new for Bob, and Frank knew he would have to take
charge of the situation.  After all, he had been gay all his life.

"Frank, I'm so embarrassed.  Nothing like this has ever happened to me,"
Bob finally managed to say.

"Don't be embarrassed.  This happens to me all the time.  Come, you can
take a shower, and I'll give you a pair of clean underwear."  He took Bob's
hand and led the near-comatose man into his bedroom.

"Undress," he ordered kindly.  Then he added, "all the way."

When Bob got down to his wet underwear, Frank said, "You wear boxers.  All
I have are jockeys.  Here, give me those boxers.  I'll throw them in the
hamper."  When Bob was completely naked, Frank stood back to admire him.
His muscled body sported a five inch (now flaccid) uncut cock.  It was also
a good deal fatter than his own four and a half incher.  He grew to seven
uncut inches himself; his current state of arousal.

He stripped rapidly, and said, "Come with me, we'll shower together."

They went into the bathroom and Frank started the jets in his bathtub
shower.  There was no stall shower in the house; not surprising in this
hundred-year old residence.  When Frank was satisfied with the water
temperature, they stepped into the tub, and he drew the shower curtain.  He
pulled Bob to him and started to kiss him with an open mouth.  Bob was
amazed at how easy it was to respond and kiss back.  Frank's arms were
wrapped around him.  Suddenly he felt Frank soaping his back.

All Bob could do was stand like a statue and let Frank do all the work.
Actually he didn't know what to do.  He was just letting the scene unfold.
He was loving it.  He especially began to purr when Frank started to soap
his chest and then moved down to wash the dried semen from his pubic area.
He began to get hard again.  Frank allowed the running water to wash away
the soap, and he fell to his knees engulfing Bob's cock in his mouth.  Bob
had never had a blow job in his life.  Marissa had been his first and only
lover, and she would never give head, not that he had ever asked for it.

The pure joy Bob felt at the moment was unmatched in all his experience.
Intellectually, he believed that what they were doing was an abomination, a
mortal sin maybe, but he didn't much give a damn at that moment.  He felt
another orgasm creeping from the extremities of his body on a straight path
to his cock.  Just as though he had not had an orgasm minutes ago, he
ejaculated copiously into Frank's mouth.  Frank swallowed all he could.
Then he stood up and kissed Bob, who tasted his own semen for the first
time.

Bob's head began to spin.  He was full of conflict.  His emotions were
boiling, colliding inside his mind.  He was confused at what had just
happened between him and Frank. He loved the blow job, but it was from a
guy.  And what about the kiss?  Straight guys don't kiss each other.  Or do
they?  Many times at work, some guy had come on to him.  He had ignored it.
Now he wondered why.  He was consumed with desire for Frank.

"Help me Frank," he whined, "I can't do this."

"Hush, baby.  You don't have to do anything.  I'll do all the work.  Just
follow my lead."

He turned Bob around so that he now faced away from him.  Bob knew that
Frank had other miracles in store for him.  Suddenly he felt a wet finger
probing at the entrance to his ass.  He was wrong.  It was Frank's tongue.
It took a moment for Bob to realize what the probing instrument was.  He
had heard about rimming at lunch breaks, when the guys were describing
their sexual adventures of the night before.  He knew Marissa would never
do what the other wives and girlfriends were doing to their men.  Now Frank
was doing it to him, and he was getting hard once again.

Frank stood up and whispered in Bob's ear.  "I'm going to do something now
that will cause you some pain and discomfort, but I promise you, the pain
will pass quickly, and then you will be transported to paradise."

Bob trusted Frank.  Everything they had done so far had been marvelous.  He
felt probing at his asshole again.  This time it was a finger and then two.
Frank was reaming his ass and it didn't feel bad at all.  When the fingers
were removed Frank placed his soaped up cock right at the entrance to Bob's
man hole, and began to enter.  Bob realized what was happening, and he
didn't care.  Hours earlier he would never have let this happen.  Frank
entered as slowly as he could.

"Tell me when it hurts," Frank said.  "I'll stop."  He had promised Bob
that the pain was going to pass quickly and would turn to pleasure.  Bob
made up his mind to grit his teeth and not admit to any pain at all.
Slowly Frank was trying to penetrate Bob's sphincter.  The pain was
excruciating and the burning almost unbearable.  Still Bob remained stoic.
Suddenly Frank's cock slipped right into the hilt.  As it did so, it
caressed Bob's prostate.  Suddenly the pain was mixed with pleasure.  Frank
held stone still.  He didn't want to move a muscle until Bob was fully
relaxed, and would begin to enjoy the experience.

The problem for Bob was that he was enjoying the experience too much.  He
was conflicted more than ever, but suddenly he didn't give a damn.  Frank
wanted him to enjoy himself, and he determined to do so.

Little by little the pain began to disappear, and Bob was feeling euphoric
again.  Frank had not lied to him.  His body began to relax and Frank could
sense it.  He started to stroke slowly, and every time he brushed Bob's
prostate, Bob purred like a kitten.  He felt another orgasm growing, and he
couldn't believe it.

"Don't cum too fast," he begged Frank.  "Don't pull out of me."

Not minutes ago, he had cum twice in quick succession and now he was
cumming again.  He felt Frank's cock growing even fatter inside of him, and
Frank's breathing was becoming shallower and faster.  He knew that his
pastor was about to spill his juices inside of him, and he wanted to cry.
He believed that he was having a religious experience.  There, there.  He
clearly saw an angel smiling at him.  The angel looked a lot like his
father.

Bob lost all sense of realty.  When he began to get his reason back, he was
standing in the bathroom, and Frank was wiping him dry.  His body was so
useless that Frank had to dress him from head to toe.  When they were both
fully dressed, Frank asked, "Where do we go from here?"

"I've already been to Paradise.  I even saw an angel.  I'll go wherever you
want to take me."

"Bob, you are the soul mate I have been waiting for all my life.  I would
leave the church to be with you."

"What would you do?"

"I have a master's degree in Sociology.  I could teach."  Frank embraced
Bob and they began to cry.

"Don't go home tonight," Frank said.  "Spend the night with me."

                           Part Three
                      Continuing Education

Their union was truly blessed.  All the pieces fell into place as if the
scenario was divinely guided.

When Bob went home the next morning, he confronted Marissa.  She hadn't
even bothered to ask why he hadn't come home the night before.  She
admitted her infidelity, and blamed it on his inability to support her in a
better manner.  She told him that he could live in this hovel.  She would
move into her lover's gorgeous apartment.  She called him, and loud enough
for Bob to hear, she said, "Jim darling.  You have wanted me to move in
with you for months.  I'm ready now.  Can you come and get me in an hour."
She hung up, went upstairs and packed a couple of suitcases.

"As soon as I can arrange to get the rest of my stuff, I'll let you know.
Until then I'll keep a key.  I'd rather come back when you aren't home.
That'll be easy."  She started to laugh.  When they heard a horn honking in
the driveway, she ran outside.  Bob never saw her again.  She demanded
nothing from him in the divorce, since she knew he had nothing.

As soon as she left, Bob called Frank.  He told him what had just happened
and how happy he was.  He was currently employed by a house cleaning
company, and he had to go to work, but he would be free after 8 PM.

"Please come here," Frank said.  "I'll be waiting for you.  Your education
is incomplete."  Bob laughed and ran to work in the best mood he had ever
been in since he was born.

Frank secured a position at a local high school teaching social studies.
He moved into Bob's house.  His first words after he saw his new home were,
"Why this isn't a hovel at all.  It's a lovely, neat little cottage in a
fine neighborhood."

Since Bob worked two and sometimes three jobs, Frank took over the cooking
and the cleaning.  He never complained.  He rather enjoyed it.  They made
love as often as they could.  Their lovemaking was deep and passionate.
Bob never looked back at his old life.

High schools weren't the safe havens they were when Bob and Frank were
students.  Every high school employed two or more security guards to keep
the peace.  Most of the schools used a private guard service, but Lincoln
High, where Frank taught, preferred to hire staff guards.  They believed
they would be more loyal and trustworthy.  When an opening for a security
guard became available, Frank urged Bob to apply.  The pay was good and he
would be able to give up his other part time jobs.  They could spend all
their evenings together.  Much to their delight, Bob got the job.

Just because Frank had resigned from the priesthood, didn't mean that he
gave up practicing religion.  He couldn't bring himself to go to mass in
his old church so he went elsewhere, and began to experience the bigotry
that he himself had avoided in his sermons.  The priest, at the church he
went to, condemned the sin of homosexuality at least once during every
sermon.  Frank laughed inwardly.  His gaydar told him that the man was gay.
If he wanted to, Frank felt that he could easily seduce him.

Frank realized that he would have to find an alternate way to worship God.
He began to attend a gay church, even though the service was very
Episcopalian Protestant.  At last he didn't have to hide who he was.  Bob
went with him, when he wasn't working.  After he began his job as a
security guard, they went together every Sunday.  Soon, as they began to
get acquainted with some members of the congregation, it became obvious
that the congregation was sprinkled with many non-Christians who found a
safe haven in this church, and a way to practice their spirituality, within
the walls of this sanctuary.  For Frank it seemed like the concept of the
Brotherhood of Man was being practiced in his newly found church.  He
literally cried during a service when the realization came to him.

As if that were not enough, he learned during that very same sermon, that
the senior pastor had originally been ordained as a catholic priest.  He
stayed after the service and asked Reverend George if he could speak to him
for a few minutes.

"Sure come to my office," he said.  Frank and Bob followed George to his
office.  One of the junior pastors was in the office, and he was removing
his robes.  George introduced them to his partner, Joe.

"What did you want to speak to me about?" George asked.

"I'm an ordained catholic priest also, and I was wondering if I could help
during the service."

George enveloped Frank in his arms and gave him a bear hug.  "Of course,
you can help," he said.  You can read from the gospel, help serve
communion, and who knows what else?  We also have a Wednesday evening
service for people who work on the weekend.  I always need help at that
one.  Please come Wednesday evening, and if you can't, get here early next
Sunday, and I'll put you to work."

The four men shook hands, and Frank and Bob headed for their car.  Bob had
never seen Frank so happy.  He didn't realize how much Frank missed
celebrating mass.  He was so happy for him.

That night, they lay in bed naked.  They were hugging and kissing and
fondling each other.  Frank was in an exceptionally frisky mood and a fine
good humor.

"Lay on your back," Bob commanded.  "I've got a present for you.  Tonight
I'm going to do all the work.  I want to make up for our first time when
you did all the work."

"Trust me," Frank said.  "It wasn't work at all."

"Nevertheless.  It's my night tonight.  Now do as I asked you."  Frank lay
down on his back and instinctively spread his legs.  Bob lay down on top of
Frank so that they faced each other.

"I like this already," Frank murmured, but Bob shut him up by placing his
lips on Frank's.  They began to kiss.  Their lips parted and their tongues
met.  They kissed like this for a very long time.  They were both content
not to rush anything.  After a long time, Frank became aware that Bob had
moved down slowly.  He was now kissing Frank's neck and his fingers were
tickling the inside of Frank's ears.

"You're going to give me a hickey," Frank said.  Bob didn't bother to
answer.  He just moved further down and began to suckle Frank's nipples,
going back and forth.  Bob could feel Frank's body wiggling under him.  He
also heard soft murmurs coming from Frank's throat.

"You've come a long way, straight boy," Frank whispered.

Bob stopped his labors long enough to say.  "I had no idea what I was
missing.  I'm trying to make up for lost time."

"Don't let me stop you.  Keep doing your magic, gay boy."  And so he did.
Bob was now licking and sucking Frank's belly button.  His wiggling was
increasing.  Bob was afraid he might fall off his lover's body.

"I think I'm cumming, sweetheart.  Take me soon," Frank pleaded.

Wanting desperately to give Frank all the pleasure he could, Bob sucked
Frank's manhood into his mouth and damn near down his throat.  In a couple
of deft swishes of his tongue, Bob brought Frank to Nirvana.  He started
gushing his seed into Bob's mouth and down his throat.  Bob could not
remember Frank being so abundant in the past.  He made a point of not
swallowing it all.  Instead he crept up Frank's body and kissed him,
passing Frank's own cum back to him.

They held themselves tightly together, Bob on top and Frank underneath.
"Please fuck me now," Frank urged.  "You wanted to do all the work.  I'll
just lie here and you can do all the preparation."

Bob took one of the pillows and placed it under Frank's buttocks so that he
was slightly elevated.  He lifted Frank's legs high over his shoulders,
leaned down and started rimming his lover.  Frank began to squirm, and Bob
admonished him.  "You promised not to move," he said mockingly.

Then he reached over to the bed stand and retrieved a tube of KY jelly. He
generously greased Frank's ass and his own cock and began his entry.  They
were both old pros now, and Bob slipped in easily in spite of his size.  He
began to pump gently.  He pulled out, but stopped short of falling out.
Then he pushed in again, and stayed still.  He repeated the process over
and over.  Frank's moans got louder and louder until he began to yell,
"Don't stop sweetie, and pump harder."

Of course Bob obliged him, and in moments he felt his orgasm growing.  His
entire body began to tingle.  As he started to cum, he threw his head back
and looked up at the ceiling.  There was his angel father smiling at him.
The angel made the sign of the cross, just as if he was blessing the
lovers, as each one reached his own little place in heaven.