Date: Sun, 27 Mar 2016 02:21:41 +0000 (UTC)
From: Beaumonte Bill <oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: First Taste of Cum Part 8

First Taste of Cum (part 8)

This series presents a number of independent stories of about youthful
first blowjobs.  Some of these are inspired by my readers.  I hope you
enjoy this series.

–––––––––– Confessing My Desires ––––––––––

I was raised in a devout Catholic household, complete with many threats of
eternally burning in hell.  After awhile I grew numb to all this – I
think it was in my teens when my mother kept warning me against the sin of
"self -abuse".  I felt like assuring her that it was wonderful, and not any
sort of abuse at all!

Now that I'm an adult I have a place of my own, so I don't suffer the
constant oppression of religion, but when I talk to my mother on the phone
she always reminds me that I should go to confession.

I never liked confession, and thought it was something the priests dreamt
up so they could listen to juicy stories to spice up their otherwise boring
life.  The last time I talked to my mother I promised her that I would go
to confession, so now I was prepared to do so.

I decided that I would give the priest something to relish as I entered the
confessional.  I silently waited until I heard the priest enter the other
side of the confessional, and I began with the usual, "Bless me father, for
I have sinned."

"What is your sin?" was his response.

"I have had gay thoughts," I confessed.

"Many people do," replied the priest, "you cannot control what thoughts
enter your mind, but you can push them out – as long as you don't dwell
on the thoughts, there is no sin."

"But I cannot help dwelling on them," I continued, "in fact I even
masturbate to those thoughts."

"I see," said the priest, "how do you feel about that?"

"Actually, I like it," I replied, "but feel some guilt as well."

"How long has this been going on?" the priest asked.

"It started a little bit years ago," I said, "but has become worse – now
I think about it several times a day."

"I can tell that this troubles you," said the priest, "so instead of just
assigning you some prayers and penance, I want you to come to me for
counseling on this.  I am Father Michael."

We prayed and I thanked him and left.

Father Michael must have really enjoyed my confession – he had a lot of
nerve telling me to come see him about it!

As I went through my day I wondered about seeing Father Michael.
Confession was anonymous, so he didn't know who I was, and I had never
"outed" myself before.  I didn't like the idea of exposing who I was to
him.

However, my mind kept returning to it, and I realized that Father Michael
was sworn to secrecy, and perhaps it might be fun to go see him, and see
his reaction.

I called the church and asked for Father Michael.  I told him that I had
confessed gay thoughts to him and was following up on his direction to meet
him for counseling.  We agreed to meet at 5:30pm and hung up.

I had no idea what to expect – perhaps he would end up having me
excommunicated!  I didn't matter much to me, but my mother would have a
heart attack if that happened, so I decided to simply act like a guy
troubled with his demons.

It seemed pretty safe – what could go wrong?  That evening I entered the
church office and looked for Father Michael's office.  The door was closed
so I knocked on it.

Father Michael answered the door and said he would be with me in a few
minutes.  He asked me to have a seat nearby while he finished his current
session.

As I waited, I wondered what was going on – was the person with Father
Michael anything like me?  I found myself a little nervous about what was
to come.  Maybe I shouldn't have ever confessed what I did.  I should have
just confessed missing church – but it was too late for that!

The door opened and Father Michael sent a guy about my age on his way, and
invited me in.

He offered me a chair and then sat behind his desk.

"So tell me exactly what sort of thoughts you have," he began.

"I think about naked men with erect penises," I began, watching him for any
sign of reaction.

"Is that all?" he asked.

"No," I replied, "I think about handling them and blowing them."

"Is blowing them the main attraction for you?" he asked.

"I think so, when I masturbate I usually think of them in my mouth,
cumming," I replied.  I could tell that this was having an effect on Father
Michael, and wondered how many other people tell him depraved stories for
his pleasure.

"So it seems that you cannot help dwelling on these thoughts," he said,
"have you ever acted on them?"

"No," I admitted, "but sometimes I feel like I want to."

"It would not be sinful for you to act upon your feelings in the service of
God," Father Michael explained.

"In service to God?" I asked.

"As you know, priests are celibate – we cannot marry," he explained,
"but we still have needs, and if you help relieve us, you are in service to
God."

That sure sounded like a line of crap to me, but I knew that many priests
molested children – at least Father Michael wasn't using a kid!

"Are you suggesting that I could provide that service here?" I asked.

"Yes, if you like," he answered, "but we can start out slow."

Father Michael got up and approached me.  He parted his robe and put his
fingers on his zipper.  "Would you like to try now?" he asked.

I nodded and slipped out of the chair and onto my knees, inches from him.
He unzipped and took out his cock, which was partially erect, and already
pretty large.

I opened my mouth and he put his cock in and said, "Just hold it there and
see how you like it – and if the spirit moves you further."

He then put both hands on top of my head and said, "let us pray . . . Lord
bless this act done in your service – may it bring peace to us and
glorify your name – amen."

If this was really a sin I thought that Father Michael might as well have
asked God to strike us both down, but nothing happened except for the cock
growing in my mouth.  I enjoyed the wonderful feeling, as if his cock
really belonged in my mouth – was that part of God's design?

I began to move my tongue around and sucked more eagerly.  Father Michael
said, "I can tell the spirit is moving both of us!  Keep going."

I continued to suck him and soon was rewarded for my efforts.  I felt his
throbbing cock pump spurt after spurt of his seed into my mouth, just as I
had imagined in my jack-off fantasies!

I held his load and spent cock in my mouth as he tilted my head up until my
eyes met his.  He smiled at me and told me that I had done well, and I
should hold his seed in my mouth as I departed and prayerfully rejoice in
the service I had given.

He asked me to call him to schedule another session if I wished, and if I
wanted we could set up a weekly schedule.

As I departed I held his load in my mouth, swallowing as I arrived home.
That night as I lay in bed I resolved to call Father Michael and set up a
weekly schedule – church was no longer something I wanted to avoid!

–––––––––––––––––––––-––––––––––––––––––––

Feel free to contact me with your comments or requests.  –Bill
(oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com)

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