Date: Thu, 13 Dec 2012 12:00:20 -0500
From: Bi Cruiser <bicruiser@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Matter for Confession - Part 1

A Matter for Confession - Chapter 1

"Bless me father for I have sinned..." I had said that so often that it
swam through my head continually as I went about my childhood
activities. Going to a Catholic grade school, I went to confession every
Friday along with all of my classmates. We marched two blocks down the
street to the church early in the morning to have our souls cleaned in
preparation for receiving the perfect body of Christ at Communion during
Mass on Sunday morning. When I was in earlier grades, we would only go to
confession en masse for Feast Days or during Lent and Advent but in the
seventh grade we, along with the eighth graders, were made to go every
week. Either we are all pretty sinful or they were training us for a future
when we wouldn't have the nun's to force us to go. At the time, I was
betting on the latter but knowing what I know now, it was definitely the
former.

Most of the time, the nun's led us in song as we knelt in the pews awaiting
our turn in the confessional booth. The sound was beautiful and was the
only relief I felt knowing that in a few moments, I would be forced to
reveal my most intimate secrets to a priest. That feeling was obviously
shared by all of the other students because we all put forth our best
voices in hopes that God would look favorably upon us and spare us from the
wrath of frustrated and angry priest. Occasionally, but not frequently, a
priest would lose his temper with an unfortunate penitent and the screams
could be heard above the chorus and fear would grip our spines but the
dread of the nuns acrimony superseded the anxiety of a run-in with an irate
priest and not a single note would be effected by the disturbance within a
darkened booth in the back of the church. Sometimes, usually when we were
being punished, we had to kneel in silence awaiting our turn in the
confessional. If you happened to be sitting close to one of the booths, you
could sometimes hear what was being said behind the blood red velvet
curtains draping the entrances. It was always the same thing: "I talked
back to... I disobeyed... I had impure thoughts..."

Impure thoughts! What were these impure thoughts that everyone was
confessing? Were they the same as mine? Why is everyone confessing this?
Even at a tender age of 13, I couldn't help but wonder why, if everyone had
them, they were so bad; not to mention why was God so interested in how
many times I talked back to my mom, especially since she walloped me every
time I did.

The two confessionals in the middle of the back wall of the church had
penitent booths on each side of booth containing the priest so he could
just turn left or right and hear confessions in an assembly line fashion.
The two outer booths had only one booth for each. The priest sat behind a
wooden door and the penitent behind a heavy velvet curtain hiding him from
the masses in the church. The custom was to whisper your confession to the
priest and most priests whispered his instructions aimed at healing the
soul and grant absolution pending performance his instructions which was
usually a string of Hail Mary's and Our Fathers and a couple of Glory Be's,
but sometimes you were made to say a Rosary or to do some act of
reconciliation or charity. The whisper part was kind of a hit or miss thing
since some people whispered much louder than others and some old priests
were hard of hearing and asked you to speak louder thereby announcing your
sins to him and anyone within earshot.

In the higher grades, we were allowed to select a confessor that we felt
comfortable with rather than just stand in line like at the Cheesecake
Factory waiting for the next table to free up. Instead of a priest, I chose
the single-person confessional and always got in a line for one of those.
The reason was that one time while in one of the double booths, the priest
asked the girl on the other side across from me to speak up so that he
could hear her and I also heard her entire confession and swore that it
would never happen to me in the future. Her confession surprised me and
titillated me. Because of the nuns, I had been taught and therefore thought
that all girls were pure and virginal. That confession though, changed my
opinion of girls forever. Her confession was going along just like all of
mine until she got to the impure thought part. She was asked to do
something I had never been asked to do and that was to describe her
thoughts. I put my ear to the screen that separated me from the priest and
granted some level of anonymity during the ordeal and was closed off by a
sliding door until to the priest was ready to hear your confession.
Fortunately for me, the door was not completely shut and I could hear very
clearly what the girl was saying. I even tried a couple of times to peak
through the slim crack to see if I could identify the young girl across
from me but it was way too dark for me to see and I couldn't hear her with
my ear away from the crack. As curious as I was, I gave up on the identity
quest and fully indulged myself in eavesdropping. I had a hard time hearing
the priest since he had such a soft voice and his back was turned to me but
the girl was just beyond the screen opposite me and her voice seemed to be
directed straight at me. She described how she thought of touching titties
and pussies of other girls which shocked me into an immediate boner. I was
kneeling there in the darkness of the confessional with my hands folded for
prayer and my dick as hard as a rock and pressing against the upright of
the padded kneeler. I didn't know that girls had sexual thoughts let alone
about other girls. I pressed my ear even harder against the crack to hear
her describe the kinds of things she wanted to do with other girls and then
heard the word "penis'" I couldn't believe my ears. Penis was not a word
that we used as kids. The only time I heard that was when my dad gave me
the birds and bees talk. The boys always called it a dick and sometimes but
rarely a cock but never a penis. I had never heard a girl refer to it in
any way before, let alone say penis. I thought I was going to cum right
there in the booth. The priest did a lot of talking but I couldn't hear him
clearly but eventually I got to understand that she had moved on from
thoughts to deeds and those deeds included something to do with a penis. As
the priest sat back, I had a straight path across his booth to hers and her
words again came clearly to my ear and I could hear her explain how she put
her mouth on a penis and that she let her dad – I couldn't believe what
I was hearing; her dad! – Cum in her mouth! She said that she did it
almost every night. That was all it took. I shot cum directly into my
jockey shorts right there in the confessional without even touching my
dick. As I was cumming, I was listening to her go on about doing the same
thing with a couple of boys in her class and with a boy who lived in her
neighborhood. Running through my mind was the thought that I really needed
to find out who she was. I heard the priest tell her that she really needed
to tell her mother about what was going on and if she didn't feel that she
could, that she should talk to Mother Superior about it. I couldn't hear
much else of what he was saying but I did notice that he didn't yell at her
or tell her that she was bad for doing what she did. I think that all he
said was that she should get the help of an adult and stop what she was
doing. He may have said it but I didn't hear him say anything about prayer
or God or anything that I was use to. I could hear them say the Apostle's
Creed together; him blessing her with the sign of the cross; and the door
on her side sliding closed but was shocked when I felt the door sliding
against my cheek separated only by the dark screen as it opened for my turn
at confession. I quickly pulled back and felt my erection collapse in my
pants as I struggled to collect my thoughts as to what I was going to tell
him. I gave him my #2 scenario with the dirty thoughts and self abuse stuff
but didn't admit to what I just did. I got away from that one with a
sentence of six Hail Mary's and two Our Father's and a new insight into
girls.

I never did find out who that girl was but I was sort of grateful to her
for freeing me up to indulge more physically in the exploration of my
sexuality. Although I began to appreciate girls as sexual beings and
understood that they also had similar sexual challenges as I did, I was far
too backward to approach one or to try to engage any of them in my prurient
explorations, at least while I was in grade school. Boys however were
easily accessible and seemed to be fair game since I knew exactly what they
were thinking when it came to sex.

It didn't take me long to find a kindred spirit with whom I could share my
experimentation. He was right under my nose, so to speak, but he was not my
best friend at the time but that was soon to change. Jimmy was a boy my
same age that lived a couple of blocks from my home and went to public
school but he attended Mass at my church. His mom and mine were friends and
my mom drove both families to Mass every Sunday since Jimmy's dad was
Jewish and refused to drive them there. So, Jimmy and I were together every
Sunday and often found things to do together after church. Eventually we
began to spend time together during the week after school and played
organized sports on the same teams.

One Saturday after we played a double header, my mom picked us up and said
that Jimmy's mom and dad wanted to go out on a date and that Jimmy would be
staying with us for the night. We stayed in our uniforms while playing for
the rest of the day until my mom said that we had to shower and get to
bed. I didn't think much of it as we stripped down in the upstairs bathroom
and jumped into the shower together. I had seen him naked before but never
this close up. The stall was not designed for two so things got pretty
intimate. Our bodies were in contact most of the time and at one point,
Jimmy bent over slightly pressing his butt crack directly onto my cock
which immediately sprang to life. It happened so quickly that he stood
straight up and spun around to see what I was doing only to aggravate my
erection so that it ended pointing straight up and was caught snugly
between his belly and mine with the effect of instigating a similar boner
by him. There we were dick to dick and full frontal contact. We were both
looking down between us to see the heads of our cocks stacked side to
side. We avoided eye contact but spontaneously began to rock our hips and
grind into each other. The feeling of his hard cock against mine and the
heat of his slippery body was better than anything I had felt
before. Apparently Jimmy felt the same way about it since he began to
exaggerate the rocking of his hips forcing his dick up and down my abdomen
so that I could feel his balls slapping against mine. I began to match his
thrusting stroke for stroke but we occasionally got out of sync and either
his cock or mine ended up sliding between the other's legs and had to be
manually retrieved giving an opportunity for a touch and feel with our
hands. We each, at least once, adjusted the other's cock and got an
opportunity to know what someone else's cock felt like. We finally got into
a steady rhythm and we both watched as our cocks swelled and leaked their
amazingly slippery ooze. I watched as a glob of white sperm shot out of the
tip of jimmy's cock and seemed to scorch my belly and streak along my chest
stopping only upon reaching my throat. It was followed by a second that
triggered the release of my own sperm as my shots alternated with his, our
combined juices painted our bodies. As our combined climax dwindled, we
pressed our bodies together and wrapped our arms around each other to enjoy
the slimy full body contact. I had never been this close to any other
person before in my life and I was not sure what to do next. I was in the
moment and just enjoyed the feeling of our bodies against each other and
the diminishing intensity of our erections as they slowly retreated from
between us and eventually slipped away from our bellies one after the
other, me dropping first. The thrill continued as we slid against each
other until, eventually making eye contact, sparking us to break the
embrace and clean ourselves of all the evidence of our sin and we continued
on as if nothing ever happened.

Well, nothing happened for the rest of that night but I couldn't get the
memory of what we did out of my mind. One part of me reveled in the memory
of such an intimate contact with another person and the other part of me
worried about how I was going to confess it that coming Friday. As I lay in
bed night after night I dreamt of that encounter while jerking my cock and
wondered what would happen next between Jimmy and me. The memory of that
girl's confession made me wonder what it would be like to put my mouth on
Jimmy's cock and what it would feel like and taste like if he came in my
mouth. I realized where that was going and it scared me. I didn't think
that the priest would be so sympathetic with a boy doing that with a
boy. How could I ever confess such a thing? How was I going to confess what
I had already done?

Friday came and I had to face the music and as my luck would have it, it
was a day of silence and we could clearly hear some of the confessions. My
anxiety was building to the point where I was dripping with sweat. One by
one we were called to select a confessor until Sister Mary Vincent pointed
to me and clicked her fingers as a signal it was time for me to join
them. I walked over to a side confessional with the shortest line and took
up the end position. I had no idea what I was going to say even as I
entered the booth. When I eventually got inside, I knelt down and when the
little door slid aside I said, "Bless me father for I have sinned. It has
been one week since my last confession..." I said it most fervently and
when it was time to admit my sins, I blurted it right out. I told him what
I did and held my breath waiting the castigating screams. To my surprise,
the priest asked me some details about what we did and he didn't yell at me
but led me in prayer and then blessed me with the sign of the cross and
said "Go and sin no more" as he slid the door shut. I knelt there for a few
seconds shocked at how easy it was; no penance, no prayers, nothing. I
gained my feet, opened the curtain and left the booth but noted the name
"Fr. P Flannigan" on the name plate affixed to the slatted door behind
which the priest sat. I resolved to seek him out on the event of my next
confession and probably everyone after that.

Jimmy and I continued our joint sexual exploration and the level of contact
escalated as did our pleasure. At first, we just jerked off together with
no cross contact. Fr. Flannigan passed it off just like he did my
indiscretion with Jimmy in the shower. After that, Jimmy and I continued
our jerking sessions and twice expanded our huddle to include someone else
and Father Flannigan, in confession, seemed to give me a pass with that.

I was on a roll and continued to push my limits. Our group, as it became,
continued to jerk off together and met as frequently as we could. Sometimes
it consisted of just Jimmy and me and other times there were as many as six
of us pulling on our cocks in close proximity. We even built a tree fort in
the woods where we could meet without fear of being discovered but that
lack of fear seemed to take some of the thrill out of it. I still loved
jerking off and was the only one never to miss a session; sometimes having
to jerk off solo. Still, I got a pass every week in confession.

I really did love the group get-togethers better than beating off alone. I
found myself recruiting other boys to join us. Funny, but no one seemed to
turn me down. Jimmy also recruited guys and one of them was a few years
older than the rest of us and had a much larger cock. When we were jerking
off together, I couldn't keep my eyes off of it. It was longer and thicker
than the rest of us and, like me and Jimmy, was circumcised. I loved to
look at it. I would pop off thinking about his cock even when alone in my
bed or the shower. Everything about his cock was bigger. The head was
larger around than the shaft and the slit at the tip looked big enough for
me to slide my little finger in. I loved to see the slit fill and then
overflow with clear fluid when he got into the zone. In fact, every eye in
our group would be on it as he approached orgasm signaled by the expansion
of the bulb at the top of his shaft and the rapid flow of the viscous clear
effluent from his slit. No one stopped jerking though. They were waiting
for him to trigger their own thrills, and then, it would happen. A large
dollop of thick white cream would launch out of that big slit and fly high
up into the air, across the room and eventually land on the floor and
sometimes on one of us with a splat. I think it was that sound that
triggered everyone because we would all make our individual contributions
to the pool upon hearing that sound. I might be a sicko but when I could, I
pre-positioned myself to be the target of his volley. I also removed as
much clothing as I could so that I could feel his hot sperm hit and wash
over my skin. I even loved to wipe it off, not with a tissue but with my
hand and then into a tissue. I loved the feel of it and its delicate
scent. I was careful not to be too obvious when I smelled it bringing my
sperm coated hand near my nose before wiping it off but I managed to do it
every time. There was so much shouting and catcalling in reaction to having
his jizz land on me that it wouldn't have made much difference if they knew
I smelled it also. It kind of amazed me that we were all crowded cheek to
cheek in there pulling our puds and shooting cum all over the place but
everyone, except me, would loudly recoil at someone being hit by the sperm
we were shooting. Even though I loved the scent of his fresh cum, the dried
stale cum that was accumulating on the floor of the fort was beginning to
stink up the place.

I finally took Father Flannigan's indifference to my sexual adventures as a
pass and stopped listing it with my other sins in confession. I felt quite
liberated and thought I had a license to continue so I did. But, to do
that, I had to clean out the stink in the fort because attendance was
dropping off and there was no other convenient place for me to indulge my
sexual fantasies. I tried scrapping the scum off of the floor with a putty
knife but the process sickened me as the smell became overwhelming and the
dirty gooey sperm residue stuck to the blade and I had to flick it off with
my finger since it just accumulated on the plywood edges of the doorway
when I scraped it there and it also had to be removed by hand. One day, I
filled an empty gas can with warm water and took it with a bottle of
Lestoil up to the fort to scrub up the mess and get rid of the smell for
good.

When I walked up to the fort, I found Robert, Jimmy's older friend and the
target of my fixation already inside and jerking off. The sight of me
didn't disturb him in the least as he continued with what he was doing as
he welcomed me inside. It was a little weird to have someone talk to you
with his cock in his hand and act like nothing was happening. My eyes
immediately went to his beautiful cock but I had to look into his eyes to
answer his questions about what I was doing with the stuff I
brought. Looking up I noticed the big toothy grin on his face that
indicated that he was somehow more than happy to see me, or should I say me
see him. He stopped sliding his hand up and down his shaft and began to
move it like he was showing it off to me. Finally, he asked if I liked what
I was looking at and I immediately admitted that I did. He asked me if I
wanted to touch it and I reached out without a verbal response and grabbed
his shaft. It was magnificent. It was hard and soft at the same time. It
felt so much bigger than mine and Jimmy's, the only two I had actually felt
before, and it was also much hotter. I slid the soft skin under my grasp up
and down the shaft and could actually feel it get harder as I worked it. I
relaxed my grip enough to move my hand over the head on top of the shaft
and feel the slime leaking out of it against my palm. I gently closed my
hand over his knob and slid it around slightly causing him to yelp out with
pleasure. He cautioned that I was going to make him cum and should try
something else and he recommended I play with his balls. That was something
I had never done before, not even with myself and therefore had little
understanding of what he expected but I proceeded anyway. I slid my hand
down his shaft never losing contact until I reached the soft skin of his
scrotum. It felt kind of strange since every time I touched my own, the
skin was pulled up tight against my balls but his scrotum was very slack
and his balls were slung way down between his splayed legs. My hand
traveled further down to find his balls and I was astounded by their
size. I explored them gently with my fingers and could feel them slowly
moving of their own accord under my touch as if they were independent
creatures having their own will. I lightly stroked them for awhile until
taking the initiative to cup them in my hand to heft their massive size. I
observed their continued movement within his scrotum as they lay on my
palm. The skin began to tighten and his balls were being pulled up and
closer to the base of his shaft. A seam formed along his scrotum between
the balls, reaching from the crack between his legs up to the base of his
cock where it disappeared into the skin that formed the thick vein-like
bulge of his urethra than ran under the skin along the bottom of the shaft,
plunging inward and itself disappearing as it dove under the crown of his
cock, ending in that large slit at the top where those magic fluids
flowed. He had stopped giving me verbal instructions and I doubt that I
needed them anyway. I just did what came naturally. I don't know how I knew
what to do but I did it. I bent down to bring my face close enough to his
scrotum to smell the aroma of his sex and to feel the heat radiating from
it on my lips. I don't know if it was the heat or the smell that drew me
but I continued to press my face down until it was mashed against his
balls. I could feel them moving under my lips. His scent was
overpowering. Not that it was unpleasant mind you; on the contrary, it was
intoxicating in a sexual sense. I could feel my own cock harden and knew
what I was finally going to do. I was going to take this massive cock in my
mouth. But, for now, I was still tending to his balls and enjoying every
second of it. I rolled my face onto them feeling the big balls with each
cheek and even against my eyes and forehead. I tried to feel them with
every square inch of skin on my face. I rolled my face back and forth until
I transferred as many available pheromones from his scrotum to my face as
possible. They wafted up my nasal passages driving me to a new sexual high,
emboldening me to go forward with my quest. I could hear Robert moaning but
paid little attention to him as all of my senses were absorbed in giving me
pleasure. With his balls then pulled as tightly to his body as they were
going to get, I began to move my face up toward his shaft. I used my lips
to focus my contact with his sex in anticipation of what I was going to end
up doing. I opened them and licked his balls eventually following that seam
up to the shaft and began to spread my lips on either side of the tube
running underneath the shaft and laved it with my tongue while sucking on
it to get as much of his skin between my lips as I could. I slid along it
like it was a harmonica and I was playing it for all it was worth. Slowly,
I worked my way up the underside of the shaft until I reached that dark
ring of flesh that once supported a long gone foreskin and separated the
looser skin along the shaft from the immovable pink skin of the crown. I
focused my attention to that very sensitive area where the urethra plunges
inward at the apex of the crown just below where it separates to form the
meatus slit and flares down and back to form its helmet-like shape. I was
met there with the cascade of viscous pre-cum that ignited my taste buds as
it invaded my mouth and enveloped my tongue. It was so tasty that I broke
contact with my lips and slid my tongue up and into his slit in an attempt
to extract more of his nectar. I brought my lips back down to seal my
contact with his cock and to capture all of the fluids he was issuing. I
was surprised at how large his slit was and how far my tongue could
penetrate it. I worked it in as deeply as possible and retreated only to
allow his juice to flow freely into my mouth. His sexual lubricant was
accumulating in my mouth to the point that I had to swallow, further
inflaming my sexual desires. Even though I didn't really know what I was
doing, I must have been doing OK since Robert was thrusting up at my mouth
and cheering me on. If the flow of his fluids was any indication of my
performance than I think I should have received an award because I was
continually swallowing the deluge his crystal clear liqueur. His thrusts
were forcing my lips further open and his cock was entering my mouth
despite or maybe due to my timid resistance. He put his hands on the back
of my head and pressed it gently but not really forcefully onto his cock. I
put up little resistance and eventually resigned myself to what I knew from
the beginning I was going to do. I relaxed my jaw and allowed his penis to
enter my mouth. The feeling was exquisite. This was a new and wonderful
experience. I could feel it throb on my tongue as it continued to leak
copious amounts of pre-cum. The taste and sensation was exquisite and I was
experiencing a sexual high that I never dreamt was possible but this was
only the beginning. He was teaching me what to do with the measured thrusts
of his cock and alternating pressure from his hand on the back of my head
until I caught on and began to move my head up and down taking his cock
deeper into my mouth until I began to gag. Robert removed his hand from my
head and stopped thrusting to allow me to get acclimated and independently
perform my first act of fallatio. I adjusted the depth to which I could
take his cock and rhythmically moved my head up and down while
experimenting with the amount of contact and amount of pressure I should
apply with my tongue. I was thinking that I never felt so excited before in
my life when the cock in my mouth suddenly began to expand pushing me to
yet another personal high. It got so thick in my mouth that I couldn't
easily move it in and out any more so I just continued to swipe my tongue
along the sensitive underside of the massive head. Robert's groans evolved
from a deep grunt to a loud scream as he launched his first volley of sperm
into my mouth, through my clenched throat muscles and directly down my
gullet. It was thrilling to actually feel that; the swelling in my mouth,
the pulsing hitting my lips and along my tongue, the forceful ejection, and
the futility of resisting the powerful deposit of sperm directly into my
submissive body. Absolutely thrilled by the sudden but small wash of sperm
that leaked into my mouth and onto my taste buds, I adjusted his depth to
allow more of his potent sperm to remain in my mouth so I could better
enjoy the taste but that adjustment wasn't successful because the amazingly
high pressure of his spurts forced most all of his cum directly down my
throat. It wasn't until the sixth or seventh spurt that the pressure
relented and the remainder of his ejaculate accumulated in my mouth. Even
with that, there was so much of it that I had to swallow several times
before he stopped cumming but I was still left with a mouthful of cum at
the end. I loved the taste and texture of his thick sperm and kept as much
in my mouth for as long as I could. Eventually, my own secretions in my
mouth diluted it to the point it had to be swallowed. That wasn't too easy
since the thick residue of his creamy sperm coated and clung to every
surface in my mouth and throat forcing me to continually attempt to gulp it
down.

It was awhile before I came down from the sexual high and taking inventory,
I discovered that I had again dumped a load in my pants. Amazingly, it had
not been the focus of my climax but only its evidence. My peak came at the
time I received his thick fluid offering. The intensity lasted through the
entire time of his ejaculation and my oral examination and eventual
consumption of it.

While I was still experiencing the wonder of his oblation, Robert got to
his knees, tucked his monstrance into his pants, zipped up, and thanked me
but didn't offer any form of reciprocation; not that it was necessary or
even possible under the circumstances. It would be quite awhile before I
would be able to cum again even at my tender age; my sexual urges having
been completely consumed by our benediction. He then crawled out of the
fort leaving me to my original mission to clean the floor but now I had a
bigger problem to deal with and that was confession. Certainly what I had
just done was a more grievous offence to God than my usual plea of self
abuse. This was a homosexual act condemned by the church and not to be
tolerated of the faithful. I was for the first time in my life afraid that
my soul would be condemned to the eternal fires of hell. I desperately
needed absolution. I had to confess this horrendous sin but how. What was I
going to say to Father Flannigan and what would he have me do for penance?