Father Wally Makes Friends 2
Bald Hairy Man
This is pure fantasy. If you are offended by stories about gay men and gay sex, or if you are under age, DO NOT READ IT. It is not a guide to safe sexual techniques. It does not depict real men, or real situations. It does not depict necessary safe sex practices. Fantasy characters can do anything they want, real men can not!
I think of myself as an intelligent, perceptive, and caring man. That is essentially the job description of a priest or minister. That is true about my parishioners and friends. I woke up one night and realized it was not true of me. I tended to think of my self in the same way I did when I was as a teenager living at home. I am older now, and had many more life experiences under my belt. I knew that life is vastly more complex that it seemed when I was living at home or at the seminary.
Many lives are much more complex and complicated. I never had to worry about where my next meal came from, or how to escape gang violence. Everyone I knew had a job with a regular income, and had long term relationships with friends and family.
I had thought of my gay encounters as brief sexual adventures. They were an aberration, brief interludes barely interrupting my otherwise conventional life. In some ways I was like an alcoholic who thinks that one or two more drinks for the road is normal.
I was not in love with Sean, Jurgen, or Ambrose, but my relationships with them was not just casual sexual interludes. We were men who supported each other as intimate friends. We met each others needs for friendship and that included our sexual needs.
We had a new resident joining us, Father Guido Montana. Father Guido was a sixty-year-old parish priest who had a major stroke. He had mostly recovered from the stroke, but he had a problem with impulse control. He forgot how to hide his gay sexuality. He was one of Tony's friends.
Guido had been a good parish priest, but very serious and dour. Tony encountered him and told me Guido was a wild man when he was naked and sexually engaged. His serious and dour priestly demeanor was a way to hide that. That vanished after he recovered from the stroke. Tony didn't know if it was a direct result of the stroke, or the near death experience caused the change in his personality. Tony suggested to the Bishop that Guido would be happy at my rectory.
Guido was happy with us. He had been afraid he would be sent to home for the elderly. Guido had a pronounced Bronx accent. His parents immigrated to America from Italy before he was born. The agents at Ellis Island gave them the Montana name. It was sort of related to their Italian name, and the family assumed it was just the English spelling. His father was a sculptor of architectural ornament, and he had spent two decades working on the construction of St. John the Divine in New York.
Guido was average height, muscular, bald, and bearded. I assumed he was built like a stone mason. He liked loud Hawaiian shirts and shorts when not wearing robes. He was a jolly, retired priest with an odd fashion sense to the parishioners. He could speak Spanish with a Bronx accent. He was immediately helpful with older, sick members of the parish. He had been there and he knew what they were going through.
I had an accidental meeting with him in the shower. He was a jolly old naked priest with a solid body and an impressive, uncut, semi-erect cock. I said hello and asked if I might join him. He nodded. Nature took it's course. I was soon on my knees sucking his impressive tool.
That was exactly what he wanted. I continued to suck and took his load. That turned Guido into a friend for life. No one had swallowed his load before on purpose. I took every spurt and drop. That excited him greatly, but it also took care of the sticky remains. Guido crashed after his orgasm and went to bed. I was a little unsure about his reaction.
Monday was my usual day off. Jurgen was doing the masses for the day. Sean and Ambrose were at work. I got up at eight and went to have some breakfast a little later.
Guido joined me. He said hello, and then asked, "Are you mad that I shot off in your mouth?"
"You shot a good load," I said. "I had to swallow twice."
"I's sorry about that," he said. "It won't happen again."
"You misunderstand. I don't want you to think I am a crazed pagan, but I enjoyed it. I was pleased you were willing to share your man seed with me. I loved it," I said.
"After the stroke, I'm not sure what is okay and what isn't. I like it here. I don't want to do anything that would offend you," he said.
"With a body and a cock like yours, you shouldn't worry about that," I said. "I preach that what is inside counts more than outside appearance. I enjoyed a taste of your insides."
"I think that may be a very liberal interpretation of scripture," Guido said after he stopped laughing. "Do you want me to take your load?"
"That is up to you, not me," I said. "For your information, I have no objection to taking your load up my ass either if you are so inclined."
"One of the older men at the seminary did me," he said. "It wasn't good. He said I asked for it."
"That is what every rapist says about his victim," I said. "The asking is not verbal, it's feeling that rapist use to justify their actions. Using your cock in place of your brain is a problem."
We talked for a while. He told me he wasn't sure of his judgment with respect to sex since his stroke. I told him he could talk with me if he had questions.
"I'm not sure you would approve," he said.
"Guido, I know that sometimes sexual desires can lead you to unexpected places," I said. "That applies as much to me as to you. Tony is an old friend. I told him I would keep you safe. You can trust me. I know the men staying at the rectory are okay. We share all the same interests."
A few days later I noticed that Jurgen and Guido were getting along well. Jurgen came to see me. "I seem to get along with Guido," he said. "I think he wants to get more intimate. He trusts you. Would you possibly help us. I am sure he is interested, but I think he's afraid."
"Afraid of what?" I asked.
"I think he's unsure about his judgment," Jurgen replied. "He told me the stroke caused some brain damage. We just met. He's confused and uneasy."
Sean was off for three weeks substituting for a hospitalized priest. It was a small congregation, and they were excited to have a more dynamic priest doing services. Father Sean was not a wild and crazy guy, but the older priest should have retired years earlier. Father Sean was a hot property for the first time in his life.
Brother Ambrose was working with a church on the other side of the diocese with a potential major financial problem. There were missing funds. It was a mess and he was there for a few weeks. Technically, he was still taking classes, but god in his wisdom put natural born accountants on earth. Ambrose was one of those.
After dinner Jurgen and Guido came to me. Jurgen was Guido's type and visa-versa. I think Guido needed an official starting gun. They came to my room.
"I thought it would be nice to have a little get together and get to know each other better," Jurgen said. "Guido told me you two had some fun."
"With three men, I think we could have a lot of fun," I said.
Guido smiled and said, "I'd like that." I began unbuttoning my shirt. Jurgen stripped off his shirt. Guido methodically unbuttoned his shirt. Both Jurgen and Guido were in good shape. I felt like I was the 99 pound weakling. As soon as Guido was naked, Jurgen's lips were wrapped around his cock.
"Are you okay?" I asked Guido.
He smiled and said he was fine. I knew he was uneasy but Jurgen was a big man. He was not shy and was clearly comfortable being intimate with naked men. Physically, I am not as impressive, but Guido knew I was willing to open my body for his use. I also knew that once men were naked and hard there was no way to play hard to get or be coy. It's all hanging out and there is no way to hide your interest.
Since Jurgen moved into the rectory, he had become increasing more comfortable with man sex. After years of hiding his emotions, he was able express his sexual desires with men who share the same urges. The rectory was a safe haven where we all were free.
A little later I was spread eagled on the bed with Jurgen's cock deeply embedded in my ass. Guido fed my mouth with his cock as he was sucking my cock. It just happened that he could watch Jurgen's cock sliding into my ass inches away. He could also taste my cock react to Jurgen's thrusts.
Jurgen asked Guido if he would like to fuck me. He said he was getting tired. That was a lie, since Jurgen only got tired after he shot off. A minute later, Guido's cock was in my ass and Jurgen was sucking me. It took a while for Guido to shoot off in my ass, but it was time well spent. Later. Guido told me he had never fucked a man before. He made a complete investigation of my ass before he finally shot off.
Guido shot a huge load, and when Jurgen returned to my ass, he used it as premium lubricant. Jurgen was complimentary about the quantity and lubricating quality of Guido's sperm. That seemed to please him greatly.
Jurgen was a good fucker. Guido was a great lover. It seemed that we quickly discovered that what was good for me was good for him. I fell asleep shortly after Guido shot off in me.
The next day was full with a morning mass, followed with a wake, a funeral and an interment. The deceased, Rodney Scott, was wealthy, demanding and usually had a portion of his eight children disowned. His wife, Elise, was a saint, so the entire family showed up. The chief objective of the children when they got together seems to have been to open as many old wounds as possible. It was a long day. I considered the day a success as no one drew a knife, and there were no fistfights.
That evening, Jurgen was at soccer practice followed by a team picnic. Guido and I were alone at dinner. I asked him if there were any problems with the previous night's activity.
"To tell you the truth, I was shocked," he said. "I didn't know that men could do that sort of stuff. I felt pleasure I hadn't even dreamed was possible. Did I hurt you?"
"Not at all. Jurgen shot off enough sperm in my ass to lubricate the way," I said. "He's generous and always fully loaded."
"You like it?" he asked. I said yes.
"I did a lot more than just like it," he replied. We had a long conversation. Eventually Guido told me his ass needed attention and asked if I could help him.
We went to my bedroom and stripped, I lubricated my cock and his ass. The day before, Jurgen had been an experienced coach. Guido was a good student. As my cock slipped into his ass, there were some rough spots, but Guido was a happy man as I drained my balls into his ass. We were still for a while and he fell asleep.
We woke to the sound of a terrific crash. We dressed quickly and raced outside. It had rained that night and a large truck carrying concrete blocks had crashed into the Church's baptismal chapel. The driver was in the truck's cab. We got him out before the rescue squad arrived. He wasn't breathing. Jurgen administered CPR and got the man to breathe again.
Guido found another car fifty feet away. He thought the driver was unconscious. He was actually asleep. The car had a fifth of Vodka in the floor. The drivers of the car and the truck were taken to the hospital. The truck driver had a heart attack. The driver of the car had his stomach pumped to save him from alcohol poisoning. Jurgen had saved the truck drivers life. The driver of the car was a repeat offender, and was sent to an institution.
We were short an elaborate Gothic style Chapel. We quickly covered the ruined chapel with blue tarps. I discovered that accidents are bad, insurance agents are worse. Our chapel was considered non essential and we were placed in a list. Some of the items on the list were ten years old. We had several stone mason's in the parish, since stone building is still practiced in Mexico. They built walls and did not have much experience in ornamental Neo-Gothic stone work. Father Guido had that experience. He had worked several years and during the summer with his father.
Guido got together with the masons and made some emergency repairs to the chapel. Guido was also a natural teacher. They made the emergency repairs quickly. Guido joined in the work and showed his crew the techniques needed for sophisticated architectural work. There was an article in the newspaper about the stone mason priest.
Father Guido was a good leader and a good teacher. There was a core of older men who worked with him, but younger men soon joined the group. The natural leader of the masons was Jesus. He came to the United States after his boss died. Jesus was shaped like a five-foot-six fire plug. He was all muscle and unmarried. As my mother might have said, he was not conventionally attractive.
One of our church neighbors was St. Thomas's Episcopal Church. Physically it was a mile away from us, but it was a world away economically and socially. The church was grand Gothic structure built in the 1920s. When the head of their vestry, Eliza Thomas, saw the article on stone masons, she and the priest, the Reverend Doctor Milton Monroe, made a visit to my church. Skilled masons and carvers were rare and there was a lot of repair work needed on older buildings.
They met with Father Guido and Jesus. Jesus had become Father Guido's right hand man. Jesus had been a mason all his life. When he met Guido, he discovered he was a natural sculptor. Guido would ask him to copy the broken remains of stone ornament, and it was done. Jesus was fast and accurate.
He was not from a good family. His father and mother were not as married as they might have been and he was grudgingly raised by his mother's sister. I don't think he had many warm feelings towards his mother. He got a job and his boss liked him. That relationship was not platonic.
A week later Eliza Thomas and the priest, the Reverend Doctor Milton Monroe, had an arrangement with the masons. Their church was well endowed and substantial amounts were specifically set aside for maintenance. The masons were soon a successful business. Eliza and Brother Ambrose made the financial arrangements. Eliza Thomas was a retired stock broker and she got along beautifully with Ambrose. I had no involvement with the financial set up, but I knew that if Ambrose was happy, all was well.
I assumed Eliza was a difficult women, hard but fair. She got along well with Father Guido, Jesus and the other masons. They could do things she couldn't and she admired that. They were use to being paid minimum wage. There was no way one of the wealthiest churches in the city was going to short change skilled labor. Jesus was to be paid more, but he refused and asked that one of his masons, Juan, get the money since he had five children. Virtue is rewarded in heaven, but Eliza rewarded virtue on earth.
Guido came to me and told me that Jesus had a problem. He was an unhappy man. Jesus was gay, and was convinced he would go to hell for his sins. He had once confessed to a priest and was told to repent, and never do it again. He tied but failed. Guido asked if I could talk to him.
"
I think there are few people who consistently lead a quiet life, untroubled by troubles and concerns. I think that was the goal of medieval monks who hope that but renouncing the world they would also renounce the problems of the world. It didn't work then and it doesn't work now. As a parish priest I deal with two types pf problems. Some relate to the family. Somehow, some don't expect illness, accidents, and death.
While these can occur unexpectedly, we all know they are common occurrences. The great philosopher Woody Allen reportedly said that he didn't want to achieve immortality through his work, he wanted to achieves it through not dying. That is a joke, not an expectation.
There is a second set of problems due to people who need attention. For these stirring things up is recreation. They need attention, and things are too quiet and peaceful, they need to invent problems. The O'Mally sisters were more pure than the Virgin Mary. For them the bible was just a list of punishments for evil deed. The "do unto others as you would have them do to you," was just pandering. Love thy neighbors didn't apply to their neighbors.