Tales of a Hyper-sexual Spy
I’ve returned from the conflict in the eastern desert only to be betrayed by Almera, my lover, my fiancée. It hurts, not in the flesh, but inside of me. I am utterly lost…lost to bowels of my lovesick soul. You know how it felt…somebody you love hurt you, didn’t they? Or at least, at some moment in a dark and sleepless night you thought they lied to you, didn’t you? The pain was fresh in your mind and you tormented yourself over and over again…like it torments me…here in my car…it’s thirteen days, eight hours and sixteen minutes since Almera has left. And it hurts…
I’d taken a lady named Rebecca as a lover the night before, it was the second time I’d bedded her…it hadn’t helped…I’d pretended she was Almera…or Bethany who was nearly eight years dead…an assassins bullet to the back of the head…a vision comes to me of Beth’s brains exploding out of her aquiline cheekbones…I think I’m going to vomit…her dead brown eyes stare at me…it hurts…more dead eyes stare at me…I can’t breathe. I can’t drive.
I’d said I’d call that Rebecca…but it wouldn’t be fair…all I’d do is pretend she was somebody else…not just in bed…but as she walked down the street…as I held her hand…as I watched her make the coffee…it isn’t right…nothing feels right. All is lost…I wish I was back in Afghanistan.
I don’t know why I’ve stopped driving…I’m in a car park…I don’t know where…I don’t know why I’m here…maybe I’m seeking a sign from a higher power…the rain slaps at the glass of my windows…I grip the leather of steering wheel….my knuckles turn white…leaves blow in the wind and are pelted to earth by the rain…the car seats smell of leather, like the leather of Almera’s jacket…how could she? How could she?
I have to get out of the car…I have to get my head straight…I like the rain and wind…it refreshes me a little. Now I see I’m in the car park of an ancient building made of thousands of stones. The steeple rises above me and into the sky…it’s a Catholic Church. It boasts the name St Barnabas. I haven’t been to church for more than twenty years…
“Why not go now?” a voice in my head suggests.
“Why not?” I agree with myself.
I push on the old oak doors, the touch of the cold metal wakes me a little more and the great doors swing open. It’s not much different from any old English church. It’s a little cool inside and it smells of incense and pine wood. Across a mosaic tiled floor, the pews lead to a raised lectern. On the wall a brass Jesus is nailed the cross…his crown of thorns draw brass blood…stain glass windows show his last supper…a shinning chalice and silver candlesticks decorate an altar that is clad in white marble.
“Are you lost friend? You seem troubled.” I turn to see a young priest…maybe only twenty years old…a white collar on his black robe. Floppy blonde hair dangles across blue eyes and a square jaw. He’s a pretty boy.
“I guess you could say I’m lost,” I close the doors behind me.
“Bolt them and take a seat, nobody comes here anyway.” I bolt the doors, but I stand.
“I don’t know that I came to talk to anyone.”
“Yet you came here…and here I am. The Lord moves in mysterious ways,” he smiles. It infuriates me.
“I don’t believe in your Lord. Not in the way you do anyway.”
“You don’t have to. If you’re troubled I’m right here,” he seems warm and genuine. He seems to care. My shell starts to crack. It’s a rare moment of weakness.
“I was in…she left me…Almera left me…and Beth died…and I think that…in Afghanistan…I think I killed people…lots of people…bad people…I think I killed them…I don’t know…I don’t know any more…” My hands are balled into fists and I start to shake. My eyes don’t cry. But I shake and it’s embarrassing. I must want a sign…
The priest does something then, that Almera should have done. He holds me. It’s feels like a brotherly hug, long and hard. The tension seems to fade from my knuckles. “I need a sign…” I tell him.
“Hey it’s okay…I understand. Take a seat.”
I turn towards the pews and my hand accidentally brushes across his robe. It bumps into something hard…something rock hard…his cock…I’m so surprised my hand stays there for a heartbeat. Then I snatch it away and glare at him…
“I…it was an accident…” he blushes bright red.
His face grows even redder and he steps backwards. “I’m so sorry….it just happened…I didn’t mean for it too…I know it’s wrong…”
I look at his eyes. I look at the bulge under his robe. “Well…well, I did ask for a sign.”
“It’s something I’ve battled with…”
“How quaint…” I tell him. Looking at his cock bulge.
“I won’t take advantage…”
“Like you could if you tried boy…”
“I can stay here if you prefer….please don’t be afraid.” The poor thing plasters his back to the wall to show he is genuine. It’s the first honest laugh since Almera left. It comes from somewhere deep inside my belly.
“I am not afraid.”
“I’ve committed a sin.”
“Oh dear…have you?” I tease him. He is perhaps the cutest man I’ve ever met.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Why don’t you go and get the wine? You know to wet our lips while we talk about this awkward situation…”
“Please don’t tell anyone.” He really is delightful.
“Be a good boy and get the wine.”
“Yes of course…maybe we can talk about both of our problems.”
“Oh…of course…” I mock him and he hurries into his chambers. I’m surprised to find I’m having a lot of fun all of a sudden… I saunter up to the altar. I pick up the chalice in my fingers…the cool metal on my hand…my hand that had for a moment held the pretty priests cock…I sniff my fingers and sit on the altar…there’s a warmth in my belly. Is this happiness?
“You shouldn’t be sat on there…it’s blasphemous…” the priest snaps at me. Wine in his hand.
“You shouldn’t still have a stiffy,” I say. He turns red again and looks at the crucifix on the wall.
“Lord Jesus forgive me…I’m corrupting you, my friend you should go.”
“Stop that and bring the wine.”
“Do you want me to tell on you?”
“I shouldn’t…” He stares at the crucifix and starts praying. I take off my top. I have a six pack and a tan, from working in the desert all summer. He won’t be able to resist.
“What is it?”
“Look at me.” He turns and gasps. “Come here. Bring my wine…” I tell him dangling the chalice between my fingers. He takes a step towards me.
He is powerless before me now…he pours the wine. I sip it.
“Put your hand on my heart…” I tell him. My nipples grow hard under his fingers. I put a hand behind his ears and play with his neck. His cock pushes against his cassock. The wine wets my lips and drips from the side of the chalice. “Why don’t you tell me about your battle with homosexuality?”
“It started at school…”
“Oh did it?”
“There was a boy I wanted to kiss.”
“Was there really?”
“But God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah…and God is good…so I became a priest.”
“Oh God, did that?” It never ceases to amaze me how many people believe in that iron age fairytale. “Is this the same God that drowned little babies in a great flood?”
“You shouldn’t talk like that.”
“You were telling about your battle,” I say him in a firm voice.
“Well that was it…”
“Do you mean to tell me you’ve never kissed anyone?”
“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty one,” his eyes widen. He blushes again. He’s so sweet, so effeminate I could eat him. Instead I kiss him…I kiss him hard…his mouth wet and inviting. Now I’m hard. I put the chalice down. I move his hand to my dick on the outside of my jeans. “I feel like I’m taking advantage…you were so upset.”
“I’m not now…” I whisper into his ear. His hand feels like fire on my cock. I unbutton my jeans, strip and lay back across the altar. He shudders with delight as he strokes my naked dick. He shudders again. He gasps. There is a wet stain on his robe. I smile. “How did that feel?”
“I didn’t mean too…”
“How did it feel?”
“Like the light of Jesus was inside me.”
“The light of Jesus? Pull down your pants and lift up your robe. Now!”
“Okay…I don’t know what happened.”
He has come a lot and very hard. He still has a stiffy. It is everywhere…it drips off his cock and his robe…I scoop up some in my fingers and show it to him…I put my finger in my mouth and swallow…I love the taste of him…
“Why are you a priest?” I ask him. “Do the robes make you feel like a woman?”
“I don’t know…sometimes…a little…we shouldn’t be doing this…I’ve taken advantage of a vulnerable man…I’m sorry I can’t stop myself.” Oh bless him…
“You have been naughty…bend over that altar…” He puts his robe down and bends over the altar. “Did I say you could put your robe down? You have to be punished. Lift your robe up now!”
He does as he’s told and as he bends over the altar and lifts up his frock he really does look like a girl. All skinny legs and tight arse. I spank him…
“You’ve been bad…” I spank him again and again. “You’ve been very bad, you talk about the light of Jesus, I’ll put the light of Jesus in you.”
“Yes, put it in me…it feels divine.”
My cock is hard…is against that tight arse…it’s deep inside him and he moans…he’s right it does feel divine…like wine from the vine…like manna from heaven. I look up and see Jesus on the cross. This deviant even for me…and I do love being deviant…I start to throb…I can feel it coming…inside of him…suddenly as I come…I tip the wine on his pretty blonde hair. He gasps…
“I deserved that didn’t I?” I am dripping out of him.
“You’re a very bad priest.” I say as I dress.
“I’m so sorry.”
I turn to leave…taking the rest of the wine with me. I feel much better now. I smile and it fills my soul.
“I’m sorry,” he says again.
As I unbolt the doors I turn to him. I put my finger in my mouth and taste him again. “Don’t be…it’s our little secret.”
More tomorrow xx
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