Father Frank Confesses

Bdsm

I was named for Saint Francis but preferred my middle name, James or Jimmy. I won’t give the location. It was a bathhouse California. I’m a gay man fighting to control myself, but I was not able to that afternoon.

I was twenty miles from the seminary. I stopped for gas and saw a sign, “Bathhouse.” I’ve known since my mid-twenties that I am gay, many priests are. Maurice, a twenty-year-old African exchange student, knew when he invited me to his apartment. Maury sensed I was ready. I didn’t know his plan, but it was addictive. We met weekly.

I have always been a masculine man. I’m 6 foot, broad, small bald spot I can’t hide and a potbelly from all the carbs. I don’t look gay or act feminine, Maury said I only looked gay when I was about to cum. I once tried pleasuring myself while looking in a mirror. Maybe it was the way my mouth took on an “O” shape when my heart was beating a mile a minute.

Those were beautiful meetings before Maury returned to Kenya. He taught me all about oral Başakşehir Escort and anal sex. I was happy.

“You will never be a “top,” Maury was fond of saying,

“Jimmy, you were meant to be fucked in the ass.”

After he taught me how to suck his cock, I learned to take his cock in my ass. I never felt closer to God, then in those moments of ecstasy.

I know the “God is Dead” movement was rampant, but I have always believed. Only when I realized I was a gay man, did I question our church doctrine.

“Keep your mouth shut and your ass open,” Maury told me.

I tried to do that for many years.

Homosexuality is no secrete in the seminary. Maury would say, “It’s called a seminary because of all semen.” Maybe he was right?

I’m going to get right to the point. At the time I visited that bathhouse, I was in my mid-forties. I hadn’t had real sex with another man in 15 years, not since Maury.

I wanted to have one last fling, to Başakşehir Escort once more feel the sensation of a penis filling up my rear, a nice warm cock in my mouth. I saw the bathhouse sign and parked.

I left my collar in the car and went inside, I showed my ID, paid the entrance fee, stowed my clothes and wallet in a locker. I proceeded nude, only a towel wrapped around me, to survey the place. There was a pool and a sauna. I sat on a bench near the pool. Naked guys paraded around it, some with erections. I could hardly contain my own swollen cock, hiding it under the towel.

Then I saw him. He walked into the room, holding his towel in his hand. His large circumcised cock was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. He looked like Michelangelo’s nude David. Shaved of any pubic hair, his penis and big balls were fully visible. His ass was magnificent. I was surprised when he sat next to me. I was trembling.

“My name is Don and yours?”

“Oh, Jimmy.”

“Do Escort Başakşehir you come here often?”

“No, the first time.”

“Would you like to come back to my room and get to know each other?”

“Oh, yes, I would.” I couldn’t believe he wanted me.

Don was the most attractive man I’d ever seen. Curly blond hair, tanned, muscular, a little bit shorter than I. He took my hand and we went to his room.

He kissed me on the lips. My heart began to beat so loud I could hear nothing else. He laid me on the bed, I turned over. He put his arms around me and rubbed some lube into my ass, spreading me in preparation. He gently slipped his swollen cock deep inside me.

Don fucked me slowly, changing angles, varying speed, his big balls bouncing off my plump butt. This went on for 20 minutes, the best twenty minutes of my life. Then his arms tighten, his hot breath beat down on my neck. He moaned a primal noise and came in that glorious moment, filling my ass with his hot sperm.

I laid there, my cock wet with cum dripping.

Then I said the unforgivable, “I’m a priest. I can’t do this anymore.”

I untangled myself and left. Don said nothing and watched me go.

Many are the nights I cried myself to sleep. I’ve never gone back.