Date: Fri, 02 Jan 2009 20:49:30 -0500
From: Wolf <whitewold999@icqmail.com>
Subject: ministers Confession (gay/adult friends, M/MMM)
DISCLAIMER:
This story is a work of fiction and contains
descriptions of explicit sexual acts of boy's
discovering their sexuality. It contains graphic
scenes of sex between an underage boy and adult
males... If this type of content offends you or you
are under the age of 18 do not read it.
Author's Note:
This story is the property of the author. It can be
downloaded for personal reading pleasure or sending
to a friend, but if you wish to re-post them at your
own site, please contact the author for permission.
If it is illegal to read such material where you live or
if you find the topic deceitful the please leave now.
If you enjoy the story or if it evokes memories of
your own, please let me know. I am happy to write
stories from outlines.
Copyright 2009 Wolf, All rights reserved.
You may contact me at whitewold999@icqmail.com if
you like. All flames will be ignored.
Ministers Confession
By
Wolf
I grew up in the deep-south in a Southern
Baptist family. It was a natural thing that I grew up
thinking that homosexuality was a sin, but it didn't
stop me from having the usual "I'll show you mine if
you show me your" times as a teen. It was expected
that all good Christian young men would marry, have
kids, a house with "white picket fence," all of which I
did. At age 28, I had the calling to become a minister
in the church, and then my struggle really began.
Without getting too carried away about the
Southern Baptist Church, it is worth mentioning that
the Baptist came out of England in the Seventeenth
Century during the reformation. John Smyth called
for adult baptism in keeping with the New Testament.
By the eighteenth century, there came a rift in the
United States, when the northern states voiced that
everyone should be treated as one within the Church,
and southern states maintained that God intended
that the races to be separate. The Southern Baptist
Church was founded in 1845. T this day there are
two Southern Baptist Churches in the south, black
and white. The separation may not be talked about
much. It is convenient that the races cluster in
communities that are separated, for the most part.
It is unfortunate that if a black should join a white
church, it does not take long for them to find they
are not always welcome.
The intolerance of the gay community is only
slightly less obvious. Their lifestyle condemns them
to hell, but if they repent they can be forgiven. Of
course, there would always be members of the
congregation that would never forgive them. It is
strange that I should accept the rhetoric enough to
believe I should become a member of the clergy.
I was barely a teenager when a 14-year old
friend introduced me to gay sex. He taught me to
suck cock, and he even fucked my ass. At least until
he reached the age of 16. That was when he got a
car, and was able to pick up females, that were willing
to have sex with him. I never told anyone, about
those two years. I could never explain why I felt it
was my calling to attend the seminary. I didn't
understand my feelings for my fellow seminarians, or
come to grips with my desires. I sought my first
employment as a choir director. I said, it was
expected of me to marry a respectable daughter of
the church, and raise a family. I did everything that
was expected of me, including three children.
On the surface I was living the ideal life. My
wife and I got along. She accepted her roll of the
dutiful wife and mother of a struggling minister. She
didn't object to the fact that we were always living
on the verge of financial disaster. Any discordance
within the family was always over finances.
The first time I ever allowed myself to admit
that I was sexually attracted to men, it came late in
my life. I was over forty years old when a longtime
friend from my seminary days moved to the city
where I was attending a conference. We got in touch
with each other, and agreed to meet. His family had
not moved, they were still trying to sell the house,
because the children had not finished school.
We had not seen each other for years, so I
invited him to stay the night with me, so we could
catch up, and he said that he'd need to go and get a
change of clothes; I went with him. That was a
Monday night. When we returned, we did talk for a
long time, but finally decided we'd better get to bed.
I had secretly longed to have sex with him as
far back as our seminary days, but had never
admitted it to myself. He was hot, but I was so naïve
that it had never occurred to me that he might want
to have sex with me.
He told me that night that he had tried to come
on to me, but I didn't respond, so he figured that I
wasn't into gay sex. That was a shock to me that he
felt the same way I did; little did, either of us know.
It was not without trepidation that I invited him to
stay the night, primarily so that we could still do
some catching up about what we had been doing since
the last time we hand gotten together.
I certainly did not think that there would be
any sexual contact, although I surely was lusting
after him. He did stay, and after we had exhausted
any conversation, we had to admit we needed to get
to bed.
The hotel had a queen-sized bed in my room, so
we started to undress for bed. He stripped down to
his briefs; I stripped down to my T-shirt and briefs.
That is my normal sleeping attire. When he took off
his T-shirt, I felt obligated to do the same. As I was
doing so, he removed his briefs and then he wrapped
his arms around me, and I said, "You'd better be
careful; you may get more than you can handle."
He said, "I doubt that," and moved his hand to
my crotch. At that point, I removed my briefs.
Then, while continued to talk, we played around with
each other's cock, while talking about what we had
done with other guys, and what we wanted to do. He
said, "I have never fucked a guy before."
I asked, "Would you like to fuck me?"
He was all for it, and so was I. I grabbed a
bottle of hand lotion and coated his dick. I lay down
on my belly, while he straddled me and fucked me
from behind. I was surprised that it really didn't
hurt all that much, and that he entered me rather
easily, probably due to my playing with my asshole so
much.
I had a strong desire to penetrate my ass from
the time that teenager had fucked me. I sought out
objects to stick into my ass. I was drawn to
cucumbers and squash, because they resembled adult
male cocks. I had continued masturbating with
objects up my ass, even after marriage and children.
After he finished fucking me, he said, "I'm going
to clean my dick, and then I'm coming back to suck
you off." When he returned, he began to suck my
dick, but I couldn't resist doing a 69 with him; I had
never really done much cock sucking and really
wanted to try it. We did suck each other for awhile.
However, I still had an itch in my ass; I asked him if
he would like to fuck me again. This time, I lay on my
back, and he pushed my knees to my chest, and
entered me again. It felt so good to have his dick up
my ass again. At that point I knew that this was a
turning point in my life. I knew that I would have to
have sex with men even more.
Anyway, after he came in my ass a second time,
he left his cock in my ass while he jerked me off.
Normally, after I would cum, I couldn't continue
having sex with anyone, but I didn't have a choice. He
began to fuck me again. It took him longer, but he
shot his load up my ass a third time. God!!!! How I
did love it! The guy was a regular sex maniac! When
he pulled his meat out, cum was dripping from my
gapping asshole. We agreed that it was time we
cleaned up.
We continued to chat about our past sexual
activities. Again, I asked if he'd like to fuck me one
more time, and he did. Wow!! I could not believe it.
He had fucked me four times in one night! It was
awesome! Exhaustion overtook both of us, and we
cuddled up in each other's arms and drifted off to
sleep.
When the morning sunlight started to turn the
room from darkness to brightness, I asked him to
fuck me, but he said, "I need to get ready for work."
As a consolation he did jerk me off. I pleaded with
him to return that evening, but he said, that he had a
house-guest and would need to go home.
By Thursday, all I could think about was getting
fucked again. I called my friend at his office, and
asked if he could spend the night with me again, since
I would be leaving around noon on Friday. He assured
me he would explain to his house-guest, and would
spend the night with me again. This time, we headed
to bed almost immediately, stripping off our clothes
quickly. He commented that I looked so hot in the
briefs that I was wearing. They were Jockey low-
rise, with no fly. It didn't take long for us to get
"down to business." We talked as he began to fuck
me, and before finally giving in to the realization that
we did need to get some sleep, he had fucked me
FIVE times, without ever pulling his dick out of my
ass! I felt like I had died and gone to heaven.
That was in the years before AIDS came on the
scene, so we always barebacked. I still don't like the
use of condoms. I have been fortunate to have sex
with two other guys. Neither of them had ever
fucked a man before. I also, knew them quite well,
and felt every safe in not using a condom. Of course,
all of this activity conflicted with my religious
upbringing, or my position as a Southern Baptist
minister of music.
About a month later, I was due back for
another conference. This one was to be a week-long
one, and my friend invited me to stay with him. It
was a thrilling week. During the days I attended
meetings to receive religious instruction and at nights
my friend was fucking me. He would deposit cum in
my ass and then jerk me off, to be followed by
another ass fucking. It was a glorious week!
I actually lived 200 miles away from where my
friend was living, but I was able to arrange trips back
for a visit several times, always under the guise of a
business trip. Our relationship continued for about a
year. He was eventually transferred to another
state. I missed him terribly, if it had been possible
at that time, I would have loved to become his
partner. But we both had young children, and couldn't
bring ourselves to forsake them. It was about six
years before we got together again. By then, I had
moved to the same city he had previously left. Now it
was him that returned for conferences. It was
somewhat like a role reversal. He called and asked if
we could have dinner, and I said, "Yes!"
I called my wife and explained that my friend
was in town for the evening; she knew him and his
wife well.
We had dinner together, and I began to think
that we weren't going to have sex, because he never
brought up the subject during the meal. It did not
come up until much later after dinner. Finally, he
came out and asked if I could come up to his room for
awhile. Whew! I was s relieved! Naturally I agreed
to accompany him to his room. We did have sex, but
he didn't fuck me, although he did try. For some
reason, that I don't recall, he wasn't able to maintain
an erection long enough to penetrate me. Another
disappointing thing was, he put on a condom. That act
assured me that he was fucking other men, so it was
probably just as well that he did put on a condom.
Another gentleman I met years ago, happened
to be a realtor, a financial advisor, church consultant,
and has lots of money. It was after a long absence
that he called during January 2000, to see how I was
doing. He invited me to come visit him at one of his
vacation condos, for a few days. He was doing some
work in the city and he had a vacant condo that we
could use for a retreat. I managed to arrange an
excuse to get away for a few days.
We met at the appointed day and time at his
condo. That was a great four days of sex! That was
I was introduced to dildos and butt plugs. I had a
hemmorhoidectomy and my asshole was extremely
tight. I really wanted to try the butt plug, so one
night I lay on my back, and he lubricated the plug and
began to insert it up my ass. The pain was intense,
but I was determined to accept it. It took a lot of
effort on my part, and patience on his part, I had to
take a deep breath and push as he pushed it into my
ass. Whoa!!! Once it was in, it was not had, but I
dreaded the thought of pulling it out again. While I
was adjusting to the feeling of the plug in my ass he
jerked me off. When I came all over myself and his
hand, we agreed to shower together.
In the shower he pulled the plug out on my ass
slowly. I felt like I was taking the biggest shit in the
world as the warm water splashed all over my body. I
did manage to accept that plug up my ass one more
time that trip. He offered to let me take it home,
but I was afraid that it would be found in my luggage
at the airlines check-in, plus I didn't know how I could
hide it at home. In addition, it was a 3" not easy to
insert by myself. After that trip, I didn't see him
again for 4 r 5 years.
That was about as long as the time we last
sucked each other's cocks. We did go to an adult
bookstore and buy a cock ring and a dildo. I spent
the evening with him dildo fucking my ass, while I was
reading a gay magazine. This was something new for
me. (I truly had led a sheltered life.) We were only
together that one night, and I have only heard from
him once since then. He is in poor health now, and I
am afraid to call him for fear of reaching his wife or
son, and not knowing what to say to them. I fear that
his health his really deteriorated and it is so sad. He
was the guy I would have loved to "marry" and taught
me so much about man to man sex, too many great
memories.
As it happened he was not the only man in my
life. In 1995 I attended another conference with a
co-worker. W agreed to share a room for the
weekend. Several times we had tossed around some
sexual remarks on the way there. The first night was
the beginning of a 5-year affair. He was particularly
attractive to me because he had an erect cock 6.5" of
southern un-cut meat. I did love skinning back the
foreskin and licking the head cheese from under the
skin before sucking him off. Just when I thought I
was in love with him he moved away. While we were
parting ways, I had another occasion to get together
with another one of my seminarian friends.
It turned out he was a little reserved for my
tastes. We only jacked-each-other-off a few times,
and I sucked him off. He also lived in another state.
All three of them say that I was the first man they
ever had sex with. I doubt very seriously the first
one was telling the truth. He was too horny not to
have fucked a lot of guys.
The picture of a "Rockwell Existence was
threatened when my wife discovered some E-mails I
had exchanged with a guy. I had stupidly printed
them out, because I was actually planning to take a
trip with the guy, though we had never met, and still
have not met. We still E-mail each other regularly.
Our hope and dream is to actually find a way to be
together to see if we are compatible. If he and I are
compatible he will decide whether or not to leave his
wife. When my wife confronted me, I tried to deny
any truth to the messages, but I eventually had to
admit the truth to her. After her emotional outburst
she insisted that I seek professional counseling.
The process has been long and expensive.
However, it's bee a good thing. The counselor is a
former Southern Baptist minister; now he is a
pastoral counselor for church staff members like me.
He handles everything from alcohol abuse, marriage
problems that range from physical abuse to infidelity,
pedophilia, and gay issues.
He is married and has three kids too. He is also
straight, but understanding about homosexual
desires. He does not quote biblical references the
church uses to condemn gays and other sexual
perverts. Instead, he refutes those interpretations,
and has recommended a large number of professional
books that also refute those ideas.
The time we spend together has afforded me
the chance to talk about my sexual orientation, as I
have never been able to do before. I actually look
forward to our sessions. After a year and a half, he
is convinced that I am gay, and encourages me to
seek a divorce, come out, and live the rest of my life
as a gay man. He says, I will never be truly happy or
find the love I long for. He says I'm a homosexual,
and that is just who I am. He tells me that he only
knew one guy that actually changed. Men and women
are who they are. God made us, and it is his intent
that we be happy.
My true regret is the pain I have inflicted and
would continue to inflict on my wife and family. But
my heartfelt desire is to find a male lover/life-
partner, and live the remaining years of my live as a
gay man.
I do believe in the ministry that I have enjoyed
over the years, and strongly believe that I could
serve in that capacity in a pro-gay congregation.
There are several in my area. I also, believe that God
made me as I am, and that he has used me in serving
Him in ministry, and will continue to do so. I is also
my strong desire that family and friends would
understand, but that is not likely, I'm having, to
accept that fact as part of coming out. It will be
difficult, but my counselor and a few gay friends
assure me that I will develop a "new family," and will
be happy. We shall see!
If you enjoyed the story and have a story you want
me to write about your introduction to the world of
male sexuality, please send your outline to
whitewold999@icqmail.com