Date: Sun, 15 Nov 2009 23:38:10 -0800 (PST)
From: Peder Pederson <pederdagreat@yahoo.com>
Subject: Genesis Chapter four

IV.

A New Beginning

--Recently--

	In May, I obtained my degree. I had received an assistantship at
the University of Wisconsin which helped with my expenses. And, as José, I
had entered my program the summer after leaving the seminary. I took an
overload of classes. I had to as I couldn't afford a protracted time in
school.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

	Between the time we left the sem and José began his summer program
at St. Andrew's, he flew home. He felt that he had to inform his parents of
his decision personally. Later he had related how difficult it was.
	"I told them first that I was gay and that I had met someone who I
wanted to spend my life with."
	This commitment was something we had talked about, briefly. José
has the ability to recognize his feelings and desires much earlier that I
can. I guess we both have our strengths . . . and . . . weaknesses.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

	"We were sitting at the dinner table, mother, father, Juan, Cecelia
and me. It may not have been the best time, but then is any time good for
that type of revelation?" José took a deep breath and continued, "Dad was
visibly upset, knocked over a wine glass, turned red and began to argue
. . . actually yell."
	"IMPOSSIBLE," he railed, "How can that be?"
	"I thought he was going to hit me . . . or have a stroke . . . or
something," José admitted.
	"How can I have a faggot son?" he screamed.
	"Juan and Cecelia were there. They were utterly silent, shocked
beyond words--even pale," José related.
	I could say nothing. I was hurting too much for him to reply, only
my eyes belied my sorrow for José as they brimmed with tears.
	"Mom, on the other hand, wept at first, but quickly tried to
defused Dad's anger, concern . . . ah . . . whatever!" he added. "Poor Mom
. . . I really think that she took it the hardest."
	José was still deeply affected by his family's reaction. Yet, deep
inside, he knew that it would be this way! Still he trembled as he related
to me that horrific scene.
	"But, when I told them of my decision to leave The Church, both
were shocked into a terrible silence. I have never seen them this way. Dad
always has a quick answer, but not that night. Then Dad said, 'I guess I
have to accept you being . . . ah . . . gay. But your leaving The Church
. . . I CANNOT ACCEPT!' Mom merely said, 'Oh! Josélito, no. Please. NO!' I
guess what happened next was to be expected, but it really shook me. Dad
said, 'You are no son of mine!' It was not just a comment, it was a fiat!
He got up, shaking and a little pale, folded his napkin and left the
room. I never saw him again before I left."
	I looked at him, disbelieving.
	"I am disowned by my father."
	"And your mother?"
	"I don't know. Time will tell. I think she could accept my being
gay, but the shock of that coupled with my leaving the Church . . . we
shall see."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

	José and I saw each other a few times during that year. Our schools
were in different states and the time we both needed to devote to our
studies precluded anything but the briefest meetings. We did spend long
hours on the phone. That was all that we both could afford. After the
momentous meeting in San Juan, José's father ceased to support his
son. Although, he did receive two money-orders from his mother that
year. He was not surprised at his father's reaction. However, when opened
the first envelope from his home and saw the money-order, but nothing else,
he cried. It was his mother's way of beginning a bridge building that would
eventually take years.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

	I was exhausted from the long hours of study and the responsibility
of the assistantship. I had decided against the thesis program for my
Master's. I simply didn't have the time, or the energy.
	A week after my finals was the graduation ceremony at Wisconsin. I
had initially decided not to attend, but José insisted. So I did.
	Mary with Bert and Amy attended my graduation. I introduced them to
José. Mary and Bert were warm and voluble, Amy was a bit more
reserved. Frank, Harald and Julia lived a distance from Madison and they
said it was inconvenient for them to attend at that time. Mary seemed
excessively apologetic, but I understood. The inconvenience had nothing to
do with distance.
	Afterwards, in the lobby of the auditorium, José gave me a big hug
and stated, "Joe, I'm so proud of you!"
	I smiled, hugged him back and stated, "You may not be so proud of
my latest, tentative decision!"
	"What?"
	"I have been offered a fellowship!"
	"Great!" then, he added, "What does that mean?"
	"Two more years . . . maybe three . . . ."
	"And?"
	"And, if I perform adequately, I will get a Ph.D."
	"FANTASTIC!" he shouted! Then, soto voce, "I know your performance
will be more than 'adequate!' It always has been," he added with a wink.
	"Only where you're concerned," I replied, also soto voce and
punctuated my remark with a friendly pinch on the arm.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

	The next week was José's turn. He had decided to be ordained at
St. Andrew's. The ceremony was not as grand, nor as lengthy, nor as lavish
as it would have been in The Church. But José Ramirez-y-Fuentes was now
officially a priest--Father José.
	Only his older brother and a younger sister attended. His parents
did not. That was no surprise.
	He told me earlier, after I had asked him if they would be
attending, "They could accept my being . . . gay, but not easily. However,
my leaving The Church was . . . totally unacceptable. Guess I was expecting
too much . . . expecting them to accept . . . these two . . . decisions
. . . without question."
	After the ordination ceremony, in the reception hall, I walked up
to José who was talking to his brother and sister.
	I offered my hand and said, "Congratulations, José."
	He smiled, took my hand, shook it, then embraced me with his other
hand.
	Standing back, he said, "Joe, I want you to meet my little sister,
Cecelia, and my older brother Juan."
	Cecelia embraced me warmly and briefly, Juan calmly shook my hand.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

	Then Cecelia handed José an envelope. He opened it, read the brief
message written on the simple enclosed card, replaced it. Tears ran down
his face. Cecelia embraced her brother, and then, Juan did the same. The
three stood there long minutes just hugging.
	What ever was the message was José alone. He never relayed the
contents, nor did I ever inquire, although I suspect that it was from his
mother. His father's decision would have forbade him any contact with his
errant son.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

	When we parted company, Cecelia again warmly embraced me and
murmured, "I'm pleased to have met you, Joseph."
	Juan again shook my hand. It felt a little less perfunctory than
the first time.
	They both embraced and kissed José warmly, murmuring their parting
remarks.
	Later, I stated, "I'm glad they were able to come."
	José merely smiled and nodded his head as we watched them pass
through the airport security.
	Over dinner, I asked him, "José, now what?"
	"You mean about a job?"
	"Yeah," then I added, "Do you want a parish?"
	"I don't know. A parish seems a little scary right now."
	"Well, what else is there?"
	"The Placement Service has suggested that maybe a chaplaincy might
suit me at this point."
	"Do you know where?"
	"Not yet."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

	José and I went to my hotel and there we celebrate many things.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

	I have begun to keep a journal. Mainly because I have experienced
sensations that are so thunderously awesome, that to verbalize them right
after the experience is absolutely impossible. So, I have decided to try to
describe them, afterward, dispassionately, as best as I was able. But,
somehow all my attempts have fallen short! Yet, the following is from my
journal.


--Journal entry--

	Tonight when his warm moist lips left mine, he quickly transferred
their attention to my hard cock. I was laying on my back with my heels
drawn up to my buttocks. There was an indescribable tingling sensation as
they slid over my cock-head and slipped down the shaft. All the time his
tongue was flicking over the sensitive under side of my jolting, hard
shaft. As he frequently does, José went all the way down 'til I felt my
sensitized head glided into his throat. That always makes me gasp. The
feeling of my throbbing dick thus encased in his hot mouth causes my whole
body to shudder with delight. Then, and only then he begins to move slowly
up and down my spit slicked, sensitized, pulsating shaft 'til my hips begin
to involuntarily thrust in concert with his bobbing head.
	José's hand moves to fondle my balls. That has always been a
sensual trigger for me. It causes me to groan, thrash my head and spread my
knees. As his head picks up its bobbing up and down motion and his mouth
continues it's luscious suctioning, a finger strays from my sensitized
balls and moves ever so lightly downwards till it comes in contact with
that pursed button, hidden in my dark cleft. Again, I groan, audibly. José
rubs his finger back and forth over that unbelievably sensitive button. As
in the past, this has a known reaction in me--I draw my knees, without
conscious volition, to my chest, thereby exposing that tightly closed spot
completely. He removes his finger and his mouth only long enough to deposit
a dollop of spit on his finger and then returns to tasks at hand. Slowly he
rotates his finger, applying more pressure until that tightly pursed
opening is invaded by his finger. I gasp. He insinuates the finger even
further in. Again I
 gasp. Finally he has inserted the length of his invading digit deep into
me. Then he begins the most delicious manipulation deep inside of me. My
gasps turn to moans. My cock is being sucked and my ass is fingered all at
the same time. I can hardly contain myself. My whole being sustains one
sensual shock after another. I quake, I tremble in absolute delight and
bliss.
	Suddenly, I desire more--that heretofore unknown penetration. I sit
up and manoeuver José onto his back. I reach over and grasp the bottle of
lube and slathered a copious amount over his upstanding, unyielding
cock. This time he gasps. Quickly, I manoeuver myself until my legs bracket
his hips. Once more I squeeze a dollop of lube onto my fingers and anoint
my quaking hole, then carefully slip two fingers into me. I fight to remain
relaxed.
	Grasping his slippery cock, I bring that glorious head in contact
with my awaiting orifice, rub it back and forth over it and bear
down. Taking deep breath to relax, I force my hips downward until that
flaring knob pops into my hot canal! I gasp. José gasps as well. I hang
suspended until the uncomfortable sensation of that forced entry
subsides. When the throes of that incursion lessens, I bear down
further. After the third downward push I am sitting, impaled on his hips. I
had the strange sensation of bing stuffed. Indeed, I was! I feel my inner
muscles ripple and flex involuntarily. José gasps! Then slowly I lift off
that penetrating muscle and then sit down again. I perform that feat
again. The third time begins to engender sensations that can only be
described as pleasing. I accelerate my movement on and off that pole as the
miraculous sensations began to multiply and infuse my whole body. I savor
every feeling.
	Soon I am bouncing like a possessed being. Gasping, panting,
moaning at every delightful passage in and out. Finally, I exhaust myself
and roll off onto my back. Still in high passion, José crawls between my
legs, lifts them and places them over his shoulders. Carefully he positions
his cock and reinserts it in my quaking love tunnel. I gasp in delight as
that bulbous knob again pops in, followed by that thunderous shaft. Slowly
and deeply José fucks my ass. Then he grasps my ankles, lifts them upward
and looks down as his thick-bodied cock stretches my heretofore tight
orifice. Slowly he pulls his cock out all the way then reinserts just the
head. I gasp in absolute wonder at the feeling of being thus
penetrated. Two, three, four times he repeats that motion. Each time
primordial groans issue forth from deep inside me. The fifth time he
plunges his cock all the way into my entrails. I utter a guttural groan.
	I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him in further as I gasp,
"Fuck me, José." That utterance causes him to began to piston my quaking
hole with his luxurious cock. Shock after delectable shock courses through
my body. My head is driven against the pillow and the headboard by the
force of his onslaught. One more time he rams into me, uttering an animal
howl. I feel his penetrating cock lurch inside me as I am flooded with his
lustral fluid. Then he collapses on my chest, panting. We were totally
spent.

	Then the next morning, we made love again. I am not usually a
morning person, but his was an exception--and exceptional. The experience
caused another Journal entry.


--Journal entry--

	How can one explain in words the feelings when you achieve a
monumental orgasm?
	As I slipped in an out of José's tight ass, my feelings, at first,
were centered on the pleasure that he was obviously experiencing. His
moaning and gasps fueled my passion. The feeling of his hot love-tunnel and
that tight, muscled ring sliding over my engorged, pulsating cock was
delicious beyond compare.
	Soon my conscious effort in pleasing José was somehow short
circuited, subverted and I suddenly became cock-centered--my cock! My slow
and easy thrusts became deeper and more frenetic as I lost all conscious
control. I found that I had become a plunging, pistoning fucking machine.
	At first small cosmic shocks began to run down my spine causing it
to flex as I drove even deeper into José. Soon these primordial bits of
electricity became more frequent and certainly considerably more
powerful--bolts of primitive compulsion. Their residual effects became
centered somewhere behind my tightening balls where they multiplied,
geometrically. It was a strange mixture of delicious pain and burgeoning
ecstacy! Ahead I could feel that elemental abyss quickly approaching! That
place where carnal release beckons with unerring, primeval power. A place
that could not, would not be denied! I had lost all conscious volition and
yearned only for my own release. I must now admit, that at this point there
was no real conscious thought of José. My whole raison d'être was cock
centered and its release! I now know that I was slamming in to him as that
indescribably lascivious pressure built! Lussuriosi! The ancient,
primordial dance would soon be
 finished!
	Then as the edge of that fundamental abyss was reached--as I rushed
over its edge--I plunged in even deeper, without volition--the blackness of
velvet--pinpoints of light raced across my minds eye and exploded--my whole
body drew up and jerked, spasmodically--I yelled out--by whole being
stopped for an instant--I know I howled like some wild creature but do not
remember it--I gushed deep in that dark, warm, inviting tunnel--groaning
with every explosive bolt of my lustral fluid--at the end, I collapsed upon
José, panting from the exertion and the petite mort--beads of perspiration
covered my body as I lay upon him, now quivering!
	He too was gasping. He too was quivering! He too was covered with
beads of perspiration.
	Later as I lifted my torso, I was still embedded, I felt a wetness,
looked down and saw his pearly residue anointing our bellies. I smiled as I
looked into his wondering face.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

	Later that afternoon we took leave of each other. I took a commuter
flight back to Madison. It was a luxury I had saved for from my meager
assistantship. José went back to his dorm.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

	Back in Madison, I re-read my journal entries and was shocked at
their lasciviousness, their directness! I had always been circumspect in my
reactions and feelings. But where José was concerned I hide nothing, share
everything. I guess in that respect, he is good for me. Nonetheless,
between José and myself no word is taboo and as we now make love, our
verbalizations are no longer merely groans and gasps but phrases of delight
and encouragement.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

	Am I sad over the decisions I made? No, not at all! Am I sad over
the decisions José made? Yeah, in part I am. I don't think that either of
us had any inkling, those few years ago when we were becoming aware of our
feelings, where our love would lead us. I ache for José's mother and
father.